Broken Dream
by Dia.Dahling
Summary: Two worlds, two lives. How could he live here when the other world gave him everything he wanted, and this one took it away? RononTeyla
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I don't own "Stargate: Atlantis." I am in no way trying to make a profit off this story, I am merely writing it and posting for my and other people's enjoyment.

Synopsis: Two worlds, two lives. How could he live here when the other world gave him everything he wanted, and this one took it away? RononTeyla

Rating: T

Warnings: Violence

Pairings: Ronon/Teyla, mentions Ronon/Melena

Spoilers: _Runner_; _Duet_; _Trinity_; _Sateda_; possible season 5 spoilers

Title: _Broken Dream_

Author: Dia.Dahling

Part 1/21

**Dedication**: A billion thanks go out to fyd on this one. Not only did she have to put up with the constant questions and beta'ing, but she WROTE the beginning of this story. I mean it more now than ever when I say that I NEVER could have done this without her. Thanks, sis! You rock!

_Author's notes_: Hey guys! This is fic actually has a funny story behind it. Fyd818 originally started it. The prologue and first two chapters are hers. For whatever reasons, she eventually abandoned the story, forcing me to pick it up. How could I leave such an interesting plot in the trash can? So, although it may be a little confusing at first, I hope you enjoy. Reviews of any kind are always welcome. They're my favorite part of writing.

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Broken Dream

_Dia.Dahling_

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-Prologue-

His entire world, gone. As if it had never existed. As if. . . As if. . .

_Don't think. Don't feel._ Ronon Dex clenched his eyes shut and allowed his hands to curl into fists. Reality twisted and faded in waves around him, mingling parts of the nightmare and his life. It confused him even more. _This isn't real. It can't be real._

A little piece of a memory brushed at the back of his mind; flashed to the forefront so suddenly he jerked a little.

_Something pressing against his chest, binding his wrists and ankles, holding him down. Pain erupting through his mind, white hot. The screaming._

Another memory swept through, this one a relief in comparison.

_A warm smile stretched her lips as she reached out to hug him, her soft voice welcoming him back home to her, where he belonged._

Ronon gasped in a breath. _That's what's real. That's home._

Why did his mind refuse to believe the truth of that statement?

Pain lanced through his head again when he tried to open his eyes; he quickly shut them and swallowed back the nausea that welled up in response. _Where am I? Where's –_

Sounds reached him and distracted him. Murmured voices, ones his mind dimly registered as familiar, argued lowly just barely within his range of hearing. He couldn't make out the words, but the inflection of tones were indicative of anger. Something scuffled and swished; a loud sigh; footsteps.

Silence again.

His stomach flipped. Someone was close, someone familiar. He could feel a gaze on him; soft, sad. The rustle of fabric as they moved closer turned his head slowly, carefully, in that direction.

Everything in him unknotted and calmed as a familiar touch soothed across his arm. Her voice pierced the fog of confusion in his mind and coaxed him back into welcome reality.

Ronon twisted his wrist and grasped her hand, twining his fingers with hers and marveling again at how perfectly their hands fit together. He squinted open his eyes, ignoring the pain and the nausea, desperate for even a glimpse of her beloved face.

She looked tired, worried, but she was _there_. Assurance swept through him, and he felt thankful and relieved that he was right, and this was real. He was home again.

"Teyla." His voice sounded so rough. Something nagged at him, whispered that there was a difference about her, but he couldn't pinpoint what it was exactly. He let it go for the moment.

"I am so thankful you are back." Her dark eyes were full of pain, her expression pinched and anguished. A single crystal drop shivered free from the corner of her eye and slid down her cheek.

_Me too._ He didn't say it. Instead, he reached up and brushed his fingers along her refined cheekbone to capture the escaping tear. "Please, don't cry." He hated it when she cried.

She shook her head. "Forgive me." Teyla gently pushed his hand away and swept at her eyes.

Now that he was assured of reality, unconsciousness was dragging at him again. "Sorry," he whispered. _Safe on Sateda, with my wife. How can this _not_ be real?_

_-To Be Continued-_


	2. Chapter 1

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairings, etc.

Part 2/21

**-Chapter 1-**

The glassy fronts of the towering buildings dominating Sateda's capital glowered down at him as he wove his way down the crowded street. Ronon ignored the surprisingly unsettling feeling that thought presented as he smiled and nodded politely at the occasional acquaintance he passed. At the moment, all he wanted to do was go home and sleep. His head was throbbing with a return of the headache that had been plaguing him for the past week; his eyes felt like someone had thrown a handful of sand in them.

The sun had almost reached the horizon, signaling the end of another impossibly long day, as Ronon reached his apartment building. He waved absently at one of his neighbors, a sweet older woman who reminded him strongly of his grandmother, as he ascended two-by-two the eight steps to his front door.

The smell of baking bread and scented candles greeted him as he closed the door behind him and reached for the buckle of his holster. As he hung the contraption on the hook by the door, he appreciatively sniffed and decided sleep could wait. For a few minutes, at least.

He followed the smell of the bread and the sweet sound of a softly humming feminine voice to the little but welcoming kitchen. He paused to loom in the doorway and behold the sight of which he was sure he'd never tire.

Ronon's wife, small but incredibly powerful when angered, stood on her bare tiptoes to reach into the cupboard above the stove. Her loose hair hung down her back as she tipped her head to see better, straining her arm to try to snag a container of spice that was just out of reach. She stopped humming and sighed loudly, her body language shouting frustration as she lowered herself back to her normal height.

He took pity and silently walked up behind her. Being over a foot taller than she, he was easily able to reach over her and pick up the desired container. "Here you go," he said, trying to smother the laughter in his tone as he handed it to her.

Her elbow gently poked him in the ribs as she took it from him. "Thank you." She didn't turn to look up at him as she uncapped the bottle and shook some of the contents into the steaming pot on the stovetop.

Ronon reached past her again to take the container and the lid and set them aside. He gently seized her shoulders and turned her to face him, tipping her chin up so he could kiss her. _Teyla. . ._

She smiled impishly at him when he pulled back. "I do not suppose you would care to put it back for me?"

He thought about that for a moment while absently stroking his thumb over the black symbol painted on her neck. It was exactly like his, the symbol of his clan that she claimed as her own when she married him, as was custom.

She smiled and held the container of spice up between them. "Please?"

Ronon sighed and acquiesced, easily reaching over her head to put it back in the high cabinet. "How was your day?" He moved over to another cabinet to look for pain pills. Probably not a good idea, considering how many he'd been taking lately, but he'd never be able to sleep with the throbbing in his head.

Plates clanked, and Ronon turned to see the white-knuckled grip Teyla had on the stoneware. "Teyla?" Perhaps that hadn't been the right question to ask. "What happened?"

She looked up at him with sad, haunted eyes. "I thought it was going to get easier," she said softly. "That is why I have kept the job. But it is just making it all worse."

Ronon moved back across the kitchen to take the plates from her hands and set them aside so he could hug her. "I'm sorry."

"Stop it. You always apologize for things that are not your fault." She pushed him away and turned back to the soup. "All those children, and no one wants them. . ." Her hand closed into a tight fist over the stirring spoon's handle. "It is not fair."

Ronon had thought it would be hard on her, but had bowed to her wishes. She had a kind heart for anyone of any age, but most particularly for children. The orphans of Sateda had long had somewhere to go, but beyond the orphanage it was rare to find anyone who wanted to take any of them in. They'd briefly discussed adopting a child, but Teyla felt she couldn't, because she wanted to take them all. He understood her feelings, but it still hurt to know that she was going through all that, just because she felt it was her fault. . .

Growing up as an orphan herself had probably not helped the situation.

"I wish I could tell you what to do, Teyla." He rested his chin on the crown of her head and gazed through the window over the cookstove. "But—"

"I know. It was my decision, and you supported me. It would be unfair for me to blame something on you that is not your fault."

"It's not yours either," he argued. "Some things just happen. We don't know why. And those kids – you've really made their lives better. You care for them. You love them. It's what they want – what they need. You're doing a good thing. But if it's hurting you too much. . ." He trailed off. Honestly, what more could he say?

"Two more were brought in today. Their mother died in childbirth with the younger child. Their father—" She paused, her hands tightening into fists behind his back. "He was killed yesterday, in that attack on Ryhiann. They are girls, aged four and six. They do not understand the situation. They asked me – when they were going to get to go home."

The ache in his head increased tenfold, this time with emotional pain instead of physical. "I'm sorry, Teyla." He seemed to keep saying that; it was far from adequate but he had no clue what else there was _to_ say.

Teyla pulled away and turned back to the soup. "It is fine. They will adjust, as will I. Eventually." Her free hand swept up quickly to wipe at her face. "Wash your hands. It is almost ready."

Ronon watched his wife out of the corner of his eye as he washed and dried his hands. She silently ladled the soup and set the bowls on the table before getting a knife to slice the bread. Each cut with the knife seemed to etch another line of pain in her face. He wondered how much longer she could keep this up.

However, as they sat down at the table the look of pain cleared from her face, and she leaned toward him interestedly. "How was your day?"

Ronon wisely allowed the subject change. "Not bad, I suppose. Sheppard sprained his wrist – he's going to be out of training for a few days."

Teyla shook her head and smiled. "I am not sure I have ever known anyone else so accident prone."

"Yeah, me either. He's probably happy for the vacation, though – Kell has our company going through particularly difficult maneuvers this week. I promised to help Shep catch up when his wrist is better."

Teyla tipped her head to the side and smiled at him. "It is a pity other worlds do not have armies with men as dedicated as you and John are to Sateda's," she commented. "If they did, perhaps this galaxy really _would_ have a real chance of defeating the Wraith."

Ronon stood and returned to the cabinet for his previously-forgotten pain pills. "I don't know, we've met some pretty good men out there." He turned and caught Teyla's concerned glance as he sat again. "What?"

"More pills?" Her gaze was fastened on the two white tablets in his hand.

"My headache won't go away. It's probably just stress." He tossed the pills back and returned to his dinner. "Like I said, Kell's got us doing particularly trying maneuvers."

"Perhaps you should go see Doctor Beckett." Teyla's tone implied that this was not a request.

Ronon lowered his head and looked at from beneath half-closed lids. "Okay, fine. If it's not better by next week, I'll go. Happy?"

Teyla shook her head and went back to her soup. "I suppose that is as good as I am going to get from you. I am _satisfied_."

Ronon returned to his meal in silence, unwilling to admit that maybe there _was_ more to these headaches than he thought.

**-Atlantis-**

Almost four years in the Pegasus galaxy had taught Carson Beckett that there was more to life _out there_ than he could have ever dreamed. The same amount of time had also convinced him that he'd seen, medically, everything there was to see.

However, as he'd just learned, Fate and the galaxy still had another curve ball to throw at him.

The Scot silently regarded the people gathered around the briefing room table staring at him. Elizabeth Weir, with her calm gaze, had already been updated on the situation and was now staring abstractedly at her data pad. Her expression suggested she was still trying to understand the implications.

Rodney McKay was impatiently rapping his fingers on the tabletop, his gaze pinned on Carson. Assuredly there was something "important" that needed his attention; it was good enough for him that they'd gotten their teammate back with no apparent damage to either body or mind. That, however, was a gross underestimation on his part.

On the other side of Elizabeth, John Sheppard sat with his eyes focused across the table at the last of his four teammates that wasn't in the infirmary. His gaze wandered over to Carson, and he nodded slightly. The disturbed expression on this face told Beckett that Elizabeth had not kept the information to herself.

Carson turned to the last person in the room. Teyla Emmagan sat with her hands folded gracefully on the tabletop. But a closer look revealed that her knuckles were white, and the tightness around her mouth and eyes spoke of stress-filled weeks of little sleep and wearying worry. She refused to meet Carson's gaze, instead continuing to stare at her hands.

Beckett looked down at the pad in his hands. It was an unnecessary gesture, since he'd been over what it told him a hundred times, but it gave him a moment to compose his expression and make sure his voice wouldn't shake. "As you know, I've done more extensive tests on Ronon now that he's back safe on Atlantis." He set the pad down, then picked it right back up again. He wouldn't look at it again, but holding something seemed to help calm his nerves. "Initial scans showed everything was normal. However, the longer I examined the results, the more anomalies I began to notice."

Carson could feel two pairs of eyes, one brown and one blue, drilling into him. _Get to the point, man._ He obliged. "Ronon's brain shows an increased amount of neural activity. Ordinarily this would not concern me, considering he just spent three weeks hooked up to a machine meant to do just that. However, it _does_ concern me because he is no longer hooked up to that device. His neural activity _should_ have returned to normal almost immediately after being disconnected."

Rodney appeared to be grinding his teeth. "Are you saying I disconnected him wrong? That he's – he's—?" He stumbled over the words, but was silenced when a gentle feminine voice spoke them.

"You are trying to tell us that the device somehow damaged his mind."

Carson shifted his focus to Teyla. This time she steadily met his eyes. "I don't know for certain," he said softly, wishing he had a more reassuring answer for her. For a moment, he wished he could _lie_, just to make her feel better. "However, it seems his mind is somehow convinced that it's still hooked up to that device. I don't know if it's permanent, or even what's causing it. All I know is he's still living in whatever world that device created for him."

"But he woke up," Sheppard argued. "He seemed to know he was on Atlantis."

"Not necessarily," Carson contradicted. "Ronon wasn't conscious for very long. He never confirmed or denied that he knew where he was."

Teyla spoke again. "He recognized me, however."

Beckett nodded. "That gives me hope. Since he recognized Teyla, I'm hoping that he is at least on the mend. Perhaps this is only an effect that will linger a little while in his unconscious mind – dreams, so to speak."

"_Or_," John stressed, "maybe it means that at least Teyla was integrated into whatever world the Quitari created for him. McKay was able to figure out the machine was meant to get information. Maybe he thought he was living his life normally on Atlantis while hooked up to the machine."

Elizabeth turned to look at him. "That is not a comforting thought."

Carson agreed. "Or maybe it created another world for him, using his thoughts and memories to create an atmosphere where he'd be comfortable and wouldn't feel suspicious of giving up information. However it was done, it is still happening. We need to focus on returning his neural levels to normal and helping him realize what happened to him, and that he's safe on Atlantis again."

"How can I be of assistance?" Teyla asked, and her teammates were quick to offer their services as well.

Beckett thought for a moment. "Well, we know for sure right now that Ronon recognizes Teyla. When next he awakes, she should definitely be there. We'll take these things one step at a time, and perhaps reintroduce you three to him then – if he's up to it. Now, ye all have to understand that these things hinge on whether or not I'm able to return his neural levels to normal, and what reality he's been living in his mind. Hopefully this will go smoothly and everything will clear up soon." He did not, however, voice what they were all thinking: _Yeah, and when has something _that_ easy happened on this expedition?_

Elizabeth set down her data pad and nodded. "Very well. Keep us up to date. Dismissed." She pushed to her feet and headed for the doors, John a few steps behind her.

Rodney continued to sit in his chair at the briefing table, his gaze fastened on the far wall. Carson decided to leave him alone to sort out his thoughts as he motioned for Teyla to follow him.

Surely there was _nothing_ left to go wrong!

_-To Be Continued-_


	3. Chapter 2

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairings, etc.

Part 3/21

**-Chapter 2-**

Typically meditation served as Teyla's escape, providing her with a way to relax and temporarily forget the stress and concern in her life. However, as she sat in a chair at Ronon's bedside and attempted to place herself in the contemplative state required for this activity, she was unable to do so. There were so many thoughts spinning through her head that she couldn't achieve the clear-mindedness she needed.

At last she gave up and moved from her somewhat cramped tailor's position to put one foot on the floor and draw the other up to rest on the edge of the chair. She rested her chin on her raised knee and focused her gaze on Ronon's face, relaxed in sleep. What was going on in his mind, she wondered. Was he in Atlantis, going about his daily routine as if nothing was wrong? Or perhaps had his homeworld of Sateda been restored to him, with his friends and his wife and his home?

Another thought occurred to her, but she preferred not to think about it. Even though the Quitari had been trying to draw information from him, which in and of itself was a kind of torture, she did not like to think that his life as a Runner had been recreated for him. She preferred to think that they'd recreated some place where he'd be comfortable, not miserable.

Teyla sat quietly as time dragged by; each passing minute brought with it a tighter knot in her gut and growing anticipation. Carson came in every now and then to check on things; after he slipped out she was alone again with Ronon and her thoughts. At last she leaned forward to rest her crossed arms on the edge of the bed so she could lay her head down. She wasn't sure exactly what time it was, but her body was trying to tell her it was night. The soft, steady beeps of the heart monitor, the slow _drip, drip, drip_ of the IV in his left arm, and the rhythmic in-and-out of his breath created a lullaby that was making her sleepy. Perhaps if she closed her eyes for only a few moments. . .

Teyla had always been of the opinion that the dreamy state between waking and sleeping was a strange place. It was disconcerting sometimes, such as now – she knew she was asleep, or very close to it, but she could still hear everything going on around her. By now she was so attuned to the rhythms of the heart monitor and Ronon's breathing that, as soon as the first quickened and the second deepened, she snapped to full awareness.

Carson appeared at the edge of the partition; his eyes swept across the bank of screens displaying Ronon's condition with professional quickness. He nodded at Teyla – Ronon was going to wake this time – and then discreetly withdrew behind the partition again. He'd be close, but not where Ronon could see him, just in case.

Swiftly Teyla reached out to touch Ronon's hand, then she whispered his name softly. She held her breath as he opened his eyes; he studied her for a moment before his hand turned over to capture her fingers. "Would it help if I said 'I'm sorry'?" he asked suddenly. He looked sheepish.

Teyla stared at Ronon in confusion. "Sorry for what?"

"Not listening." He looked down at their joined fingers and smiled ruefully. "I guess Shep won't be the only one to miss maneuvers this week."

Movement at the edge of the partition brought Teyla's attention in that direction, and she shared a confused look with Carson. "Why?" _Shep – does he mean Colonel Sheppard?_

Ronon looked surprised. "Remember? Shep sprained his wrist. And now since I'm here, I'll have to miss too."

Teyla felt like she'd been reading a book and the author had changed the story partway through. "Ronon, what are you talking about?" Her frustration easily translated through to her tone.

Ronon looked puzzled. "I told you – when was that, last night? – that Shep sprained his wrist running maneuvers. I promised him I'd catch him up when his wrist is able to stand strain again, but I guess we'll _both_ have to find someone to catch us up." He shook his head. "Have you talked to Kell? What'd he say when he found out I wasn't going to be around?"

Teyla's breath caught in her throat. _Kell – Commander Kell, Sateda. Ronon's old taskmaster in the army!_ She wasn't sure what to say, so she looked to Carson for guidance.

He nodded a little and mouthed, _Play along_.

Hoping that meant the doctor had a plan, Teyla did as ordered. "Actually, I have not talked to him yet. I came straight here." She hoped that her confusion and anxiety didn't show.

Ronon looked contrite. "Were you already at work? I'm sorry." He squeezed her hand. "I promise that next time you tell me to go see the doctor, I'll do it." Now his eyes were starting to close a little again, and he looked tired.

Teyla gently squeezed Ronon's fingers back, hoping she was acting natural. "It is fine, Ronon. Just concentrate on getting better."

Ronon nodded and mumbled four more words before he was unconscious again. "Yes, my beautiful wife."

Teyla's jaw dropped as she snapped her gaze up to meet Carson's. He shook his head a little, his own mouth slightly agape and eyes wide. "I don't know, lass!" the Scot declared. "I suppose that other reality is a wee bit different than we thought!"

Teyla sank into the chair behind her, hardly registering the fact that she was still holding Ronon's lax hand. _His wife – he called me his wife! Ancestors, what was the world they created for him?_

Carson was trying to be tactful by remaining silent as he checked Ronon's vitals again. Finally the silence got to him and he spoke. "When he is unconscious, he must still be living in the other world. And his delusions carry over into this – or the real, if you like – world."

Teyla shook her head in disbelief. _He seemed so comfortable calling me his wife – is it really true that in _that_ world he loves me? That I am his?_

Carson smiled softly at her. "Next time he wakes up, we'll try to gently start reintroducing him to Atlantis. We'll take things slowly, see how it goes."

Teyla nodded absently as Carson slipped out. _Ronon, where are you now?_

**-Sateda-**

Ronon woke with the dawn, feeling as tired and achy as he'd been when he went to bed. If the pain pills had had any affect on his headache overnight, they'd worn off by now.

Teyla stirred and mumbled, "Is it morning?"

"Yes." Ronon stared abstractedly at the curtained window, pondering his headache and the strange dream he'd had.

She rolled over and squinted at him, her face framed by sleep-tousled hair. "Ronon, what's wrong?"

"Nothing. Just a strange dream I had." He'd been in the hospital, telling Teyla she'd been right about his headaches. But something had been wrong about the hospital – it looked more like the descriptions he'd heard of the Ancestral City, Atlantis. The walls he'd seen were colored and bright instead of dull grey. What a strange, strange dream.

He decided to write it off as he leaned over to kiss Teyla. "Sleep well?" he inquired.

Teyla smiled and nodded as she stretched lazily. "I did. Other than your dream, did you sleep well? How is your headache?"

Ronon snagged her waist and pulled her closer to kiss her neck, guiltily hoping to distract her. "Fine," he lied casually. His night had been, and head still was, anything but fine, but he didn't want her to know that. "Little disturbed because of the dream, but otherwise fine."

Teyla bought it. She curled tighter against his side and snuggled her face against his shoulder. "Good. I am glad you are better." She draped her arm over his chest and sighed. "What was your dream about?"

Figures she wouldn't drop it that easily. "I don't know – it was just weird. I woke up in the hospital, and I remember telling you that you were right about my headache. But something was wrong – I think I dreamed that I was in the Ancestral City instead of here on Sateda. My surroundings were too wrong to have been Sateda's hospital."

Teyla tipped her head up to gaze at him curiously. "What does Atlantis look like?" she questioned. "They never told any stories of it at—" she hesitated, her eyes saddening a little. "I would like to tell the children about the Ancestral City. I have heard of it, but nothing of what it looks like."

Ronon shrugged his unoccupied shoulder. "I don't know – light and airy and colorful. That's how my mother always described it, at least. She probably didn't even know what it looks like – it's just a bunch of stories passed down from generation to generation and changed to suit personal preferences over the years."

A brief expression of frustration flitted through her eyes, then was gone behind her usual sereneness. "Have you anything to change about it in your retelling of this story?"

Ronon smiled and kissed her forehead. "Take all the literary liberties you want, Teyla. It's time for me to go."

She turned her face into his neck and clung a little tighter. "I do not want you to go." She sighed a little. "However, I know you must. What time will you be home?"

"The usual, I suspect. I might stop and check on Shep, though. So if I'm a little late, you know where I am."

Teyla nodded and reluctantly let go after giving him another lingering kiss. "Very well. Be careful, Ronon."

Ronon paused in the process of pulling his shirt on to look over at her. "You know I will be." He went to sit on the bed next to her hip as he finished pulling on his shirt. He leaned down to kiss her and smiled down into her big, sad brown eyes. "I love you."

Teyla smiled sleepily at him. "I love you too."

Ronon kissed her again and stood. "I'll be right back." Ronon left the room to scavenge for a quick breakfast. He discovered some cinnamon bread that, by the freshness of its spicy aroma, had been baked the day before. He threw it up and caught it with a smile. _She works all day and still finds time to make my favorites. I don't know what I'd do without her._ Suddenly, his head didn't hurt _quite_ so much.

Ronon took a bite as he settled in the doorway of the bedroom and watched his wife pick her outfit for the day. After swallowing the last bite, he walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. He lowered his head down to hers and nestled his face in her soft, fragrant hair. "I've gotta go now. I'll miss you," he whispered in her ear. He kissed her on the cheek.

Teyla twisted around and put her hands on his face to return the kiss. A few seconds later, she pulled away with a smile. "I'll miss you more," she said in a playful voice.

Ronon grinned and leaned in to kiss her on the forehead. "I don't know if that's even possible," he chuckled. Then, seriously, "You be careful. Tell the children I said hello."

Teyla smiled as she straightened the collar of her blouse. "I will. You be careful too. Have a good day, and I will see you tonight."

Realizing what time it was, he ran out of the room backwards, still watching his beautiful wife. He really _did_ have it all.

_-To Be Continued-_


	4. Chapter 3

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairing, etc.

Part 4/21

**-Chapter 3-**

**Sateda **

Ronon weaved his way in and out of the crowd as he did every other day at this time. Although it took great effort not to run into someone, his mind was elsewhere. All he could think about was Teyla. How her day was, how the kids were at her work, what he would tell her about his day, and just _seeing_ her again.

He entered their home and instantly smelled something heavenly and wonderfully familiar: pot roast. He happily put his things in their designated places and walked in to the kitchen to see his wife.

She was setting the table, still in the clothing that he had watched her pick out earlier. Her hair was in a perfect ponytail and she was as gorgeous as ever. She was humming, as she usually did at this time of the day. It was one of Ronon's favorite things about coming home: He could see her as soon as he walked into the hall.

A grin immediately brightened his face. He nearly ran in to greet her.

"Oh, I missed you so," Teyla said as her husband swept her up.

"I missed you too." He squeezed her tightly and kissed her quickly. Then he held her for a minute, just glad to be with her. Her ponytail tickled his arm and made his smile even bigger. "How was your day?"

As he eased her to the ground, she looked up at him with sadness in her eyes. "I'm sorry. I was a little late getting home, so supper's going to be a while longer." She leaned across him to put the last fork at her spot on the table.

He lifted her chin up to meet her eyes. "Even better: more time to talk with my gorgeous wife." He picked her up and carried her into the den. He sat on the couch and opened his arms to let her adjust to whatever position was most comfortable for her.

She shifted in his lap so one arm looped around his shoulders and the other rested on his arm, which lay across her lap. "So, how was work? Did Kell push your regiment again?" she asked. She ran her fingers up and down his arm absently, her gaze intent on his face.

Ronon shook his head. "Nuh-uh. You first." He slipped his other arm around her and gently tugged so her head rested on his shoulder. "How was your day? Did you tell the kids about the city of the Ancestors?" His head throbbed as he leaned it against hers, but he tried not to let on. She would just worry, although there was really nothing to worry about. It was probably just stress and all the work that Kell had been making them do.

"It was – _better_," she said slowly. A small nod and smile thanked him for his recognition of the previous day's events. "I did tell the children about your dream. They were most interested. They made me promise to tell them more tomorrow." She paused and turned slightly so Ronon could both his arms around her slender waist. "I was hoping you would help me think of something else to say. Is there _anything_ else about the dream you remember that I could tell them?" she asked. Her brown eyes looked up into his pleadingly.

He tilted his head and thought hard. "I _did_ remember there was a pillar in the corner. It was vertical, and bubbles were moving through the clear part in the center. I think they might find those pieces of art interesting. Besides that, I really can't remember much at all." He didn't want to tell her about the part of his dream that detailed his being sick, or that she was there but seemed confused by something. "Are the kids okay?" he asked. By now he was desperate to turn the subject from his dreams.

"Yes," she said with an almost-fake smile. It was obvious she was making an attempt to spin everything positively. "They are well. The two that arrived yesterday are in good health and, although they seem to miss their parents, I think they'll be fine – after a while." She paused, then chuckled.

"What?" he asked. He nudged her gently with his shoulder and smiled, happy simply because she seemed to be.

"The youngest drew me a picture today. In it she and I were holding hands and we were in a field with flowers." She sighed in happy remembrance.

Ronon kissed the top of her head. "I'm glad your day was better."

"Thank you." She kissed him and stood up to go to the kitchen to check on their meal. "So, how was Shep?" she called in from the other room.

Ronon waited until Teyla came back in and sat on the couch next to him. "He was better." He paused and thoughtfully slipped an arm around her shoulders. "He's mad that he can't do anything for the next two weeks; but besides that, he's doing really well. Kell didn't go any lighter today, so he had a _lot_ to catch up on. I think that made him happier, though. He likes being active, so being stuck at home has been driving him crazy. I warned him to take it easy – but I bet he's still going through the new maneuvers at home right now." He stopped to think back on the visit.

"How is your headache?" Teyla asked seriously. Ronon blinked and wondered if she was _trying _to start a fight.

He shifted and tried to think of how to get out of the situation that he was now stuck in.

Teyla waited a few moments, then leaped to her feet so suddenly Ronon jumped. "_Why_ will you not do anything?" she nearly yelled.

"It isn't a big deal!" Ronon replied hotly. "It's just work and stress. I don't _need_ any medicine!" he yelled back. Then he felt even worse, because he hated to argue with Teyla.

"That is stupid! Medicine could _help_! _Why_ are you so stubborn?" she cried. Her dark eyes filled with tears. Her voice softened, then cracked as she spoke again. "I just want you to be okay." She hid her face with her slender hands and began to weep. "I do not want to watch you hurt anymore. I _hate_ it."

Ronon's gut twisted. He jumped up and reached out to hold her. "Shh. It's okay, really. I'm fine. Don't be afraid. I promise, I'll be okay. I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to make you cry. I'll be fine." He held her tight and kept assuring her until she was convinced. Mentally he berated himself, however. _Stupid, stupid, stupid. I made her cry. Can't I do _anything_ right for her?_

"_Promise_ me you will not let it get any worse." She reached a hand between them to wipe away the last of her tears.

Ronon gently pushed her away from him slightly so she could see into his eyes. "I already have, remember? But I promise again that I won't let it hurt me any more than it has." He leaned down to press a gentle kiss to the crown of her golden head.

"I just want you to be okay." She spoke quietly, her voice still shaky with tears.

Ronon swallowed hard. "Look at me, Teyla." He cupped her chin ever so gently and tipped her head up. He smiled and tried to reassure her once more. "I'll be fine." This time when he lowered his head, he kissed her perfect lips.

She accepted the promise and returned the kiss with interest. After a moment, she pulled away and looked toward the kitchen. "Oh! The pot roast!" She ran.

Ronon followed a moment later. He watched bemusedly as Teyla set the dish of slightly-crispy pot roast in the center of the table and looked ruefully at it. "I'm sorry," she said quietly.

He shook his head. "It's fine."

They ate slowly and in silence, both nervous about each other's well-being. By the time they were finished, it was time for bed. It had been a very long, emotionally exhausting day for both of them.

Long after Teyla's even breathing spoke of her rest, Ronon lay awake and wondered what to do next. Sleep continued to evade him for a long time, but at last he fell into an exhausted rest that took him back to his dreams.

Ronon held Teyla closely all night, even in his dreams afraid he would lose her if he let go.

**Atlantis**

It was hours after Ronon had last awakened, and Teyla was still in shock. Something about the fact that he called her "wife" made her feel. . . Well, she didn't even know how she felt. All that she was sure of was that she wanted Ronon to wake up. She wanted to know what was happening in his sleep, and if he was okay. She hoped Dr. Beckett was right when he said Ronon would fully heal.

One thing did encourage her, however. The fact that Ronon had thought of her as his wife led her to believe that whatever the Quitari were doing to him might not have been as bad as she had first feared. Maybe he was just in another lifetime, a peaceful world.

_But what would they have to gain from leading him to believe that we are married? _She pondered this as she watched him lie there silently.

Teyla sighed and wondered how much longer her friend and teammate would be like this.

After a while, she stood. The need to stretch her legs made her pace nervously around the confines of Ronon's cubicle; even with this she was unable to tear her eyes from him. This was unnerving, waiting for something to happen, wondering if Ronon was okay. What would he say when he woke again? Would he call her his wife again? Her heart pounded in anticipation, and she found herself surprised to realize that she _wanted_ him to call her that again. To look at her that way, with such love and adoration in his eyes.

All she could do now, however, was wait. And so she did. She stayed there for hours by herself, except for the occasional check-ins by John, Elizabeth, or Carson. No one stayed for long because no one knew what to say. Teyla sat there alone, knowing she wasn't obliged to stay, but something told her she needed to. She had to be here with him.

He might need her when next he wakened.

"How's the patient?" Carson asked with false cheerfulness as he walked into the room for his bi-hourly check-in.

"I do not know. He still has not moved since he last awoke." Both looked at the monitors – Carson checking for anomalies, Teyla with confusion. She didn't know what any of the machines' purposes were, but looking at them at least gave her something to do.

"He's doing rather well," Beckett said at length. "I'd say he should be waking up again very soon. Just call me when he does." With nothing else to do, and not knowing what more to say, he left.

As soon as Carson disappeared around the edge of the partition, Ronon's hand moved.

"Dr. Beckett!" Teyla called out, suddenly afraid.

He returned and stood at the other side of Ronon. Both he and Teyla waited with wide-eyed anticipation to see what would happen.

Ronon shifted his legs slightly and opened his eyes. He looked as if he was confused and drowsy. "When can I go home?" he asked. Obviously he was incoherent – and with good reason, Teyla supposed.

Teyla realized the question was directed at her. She thought for a panicked moment; then remembered her orders to play along. She placed a gentle hand on his arm, looked into his eyes, and forced a smile. "Soon, I promise." She nodded assuredly, not quite sure what she was doing. Would her answer be the one he wanted – expected – to hear?

He accepted her words with a responding smile and nod. He glanced around the cramped space with obvious confusion and wonder. When he at last noticed Carson in the room, he stopped and stared for a second.

The only noises for a long moment came from the machines monitoring his vitals. Then, at last, Ronon spoke in a voice hoarse with disuse. "What's wrong with me?"

Carson shook his head as Teyla thought with relief, _So he knows that Carson is a doctor. That is good news._

Beckett spoke with an only slightly more pronounced burr than normal. "I'm not certain yet, but I know you're going to be all right. You'll be home in no time, I promise. How are you feelin' now?" he asked. Teyla belatedly realized Carson, too, was playing along with Ronon's fantasy.

"I don't know." Ronon absently reached for her hand, which Teyla quickly gave him. "My headache's finally gone, though. You're good, Doc." As he spoke, his voice lightened more and more into a murmur, and he slurred his speech.

They didn't have much more time with him before he would once more fall asleep.

Ronon turned back to face Teyla, eyelids drooping over sad green eyes. "Something's –strange. . ." he tried to say, but it seemed like he'd forgotten how to speak.

"Rest, Ronon. We will talk when you next awaken." Teyla spoke softly, her hand still in his. She squeezed it softly, hoping that was what the her in his mind would do.

It seemed to be, for he nodded, smiled, and drifted back to sleep.

_To Be Continued_


	5. Chapter 4

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, etc.

Part 5/21

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Chapter 4

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Sateda

As soon as he awoke, Ronon forgot about the fight the night before. He was just happy to be home with his wife.

He lay there in bed for a long while, gazing at the ceiling and wondering what his dreams meant. The only thing he could figure was that it was a sign that he shouldn't go to the doctor. If he did, then things would be like how they were in his dreams: Teyla distant; his world different. He knew something – the Ancestors, perhaps? – must be trying to tell him not to go.

But how could he not? Teyla was really worried for him, he could see it in her eyes when she thought he wasn't looking at her.

If he didn't go, he'd have to lie to her. Could he do that? The thought gnawed at his heart, and he closed his eyes. _Teyla. Oh my love, please forgive me for what I'm thinking._

Teyla stirred next to him and instinctively curled tighter into his warm embrace. Ronon looked down into her angelic face as soon as she started to open her eyes.

When she smiled beautifully at him, he leaned in and kissed her. "Good morning, my love. How did you sleep?" He shifted a little more onto his side to face her better and tightened his arms around her.

One look at her made him smile. Her hair, disheveled and in her face, half-veiled sleepy brown eyes. He gently brushed the silky strands out of his way and kissed her forehead.

Teyla grunted softly as her eyes slowly adjusted to the light coming in from the window. "Very well, how did you sleep?" She smiled as his arm slid around her waist. She rested her hand on it and turned her head to look at him.

Ronon paused. "Good enough," he answered honestly, though with purposeful vagueness.

Her expression changed to worry. "Did you have another dream?" She stroked his face with her free hand and rested her head on his shoulder.

"Yeah. It was pretty much the same, but I remember more about the room this time." He hoped her interest in his surroundings would get her mind off of his problems.

"Really?" She inched closer to him. "Tell me about it?" she begged playfully. An adoring smile curled her lips as she lifted her head to kiss him.

He smiled and put his free hand on her face to return the kiss. Teyla prolonged the embrace longer than he was expecting, leaving him breathless. His smile grew larger as his heart pounded. "What were we talking about?" He blinked a little in infatuated confusion.

"Your dream," she said, suddenly less playful and more – businesslike. Then she smiled again.

Ronon decided he must have imagined the look and spoke again. "Well," he sighed, "it was the same room."

"What did it look like? What were you doing?" she questioned. She took a lock of his hair and began to spin it between her slender fingers.

Ronon reached up to brush his hand over Teyla's hair in response. "It was very bright, airy. The floor was brown and the walls were blue. The room was small. I was – lying in bed. You were next to me." _So there it is: I have to lie to her. But it's for the best. _Somehow, though, he wasn't convinced by his own thought. His stomach twisted and he immediately felt guilt rise up in his body, but he knew that it was the best for her. He couldn't worry her any more than she already was.

"No one else was there?" She sat up in bed abruptly.

He paused uncomfortably and withdrew his hand, not sure if he should continue to lie or not. If he told her about Carson, she'd only make him go to the infirmary. "Yeah, it was just us. Sorry I don't remember more," he apologized. He felt bad when he saw the disappointment on her face.

"No, Ronon, do not be sorry about what you dreamed or did not dream! I can make up things for the children to fill in the blanks. Remember I will _always _love you." She leaned in to kiss him one more time before she climbed out of bed. "No matter what you dream or do not dream." She chuckled and tossed him a dazzling smile over her shoulder.

"That's good to know," he replied. He stood in the middle of the room for a moment and gazed around, hunting for his shirt.

Teyla bent over, picked it up, and tossed it to him. "Do you plan to be home at the usual time?" She threw the question over her shoulder as she walked into the bathroom to change and fix her hair.

Ronon found his shoes and leather pants and stood in the bathroom doorway as he pulled them on. "About the same time as yesterday, I'd say. I'm going to stop by and visit Shep again. I'll try to hurry, though."

Teyla walked up to him and grasped his shoulders tightly. She gently tugged to pull him down; she kissed him when his face was at her level. "You better," she replied. That playful smile and matching tone was back to warm him heart and soul.

Ronon put his hand on her neck and stroked her clan tattoo with his thumb. Another thing they had in common, another thing that bound them so tightly together. He pulled her in for one more kiss. _Teyla, I love you so._

Now fully dressed and ready to go, she slipped past him into the bedroom when he finally made himself let go of her. "I have to be at the orphanage a little early today. I have to leave now." Apology lingered in her dark eyes as she returned to him for one last kiss. "I love you," she whispered breathlessly. Then she gathered her things and turned to smile at him once more over her shoulder.

"Okay. I'll see you tonight. I love you, too." He watched her walk out of the room, gaze lingering on the doorway even after she'd disappeared. _I can't believe my good fortune. I get to wake up every day to _her._ I get to spend the rest of my life with _her. Ronon tipped his head back and smiled with pure joy. _I will never want anything else in life so long as I have Teyla._

**Eight hours later**

"Can we take a break _please_? I've got a sprained wrist!" a defeated Shep sharply barked the request as he backed off from his friend a little.

"Sure." Ronon put his Bantos rod aside and grinned. "You know, you could have just asked."

In all honesty, Shep had never been as good as Ronon at Bantos sparring. But his injury had crippled his ability even more, so now he was scrambling to catch up. But Shep had demanded to be pushed, so Ronon stepped up the level a little. It was nowhere close to normal, but evidently it was still a little higher than his friend was ready for.

"I _did_ just ask," John said as he seemed to wilt onto a chair. "So, tell me, what's new with you? We haven't _really_ talked since you sprained my wrist." He smirked and took a sip of ale.

Ronon sat next to him and ran a hand down his tired face. He knew he needed to hurry home soon, but he still wanted to talk for a little while. "I didn't sprain your wrist, you fell on it."

"Yeah, but only because you knocked me down," Shep shot back. He offered a drink to Ronon.

Ronon waved away the offer – not to be rude, but because he only drank in celebration. "We were sparring. You let your guard down. Are you sure you didn't hit your head, too?" he teased. He reached for the container of water he'd brought with him from home and took a long, refreshing drink.

John shrugged and set down his half-empty cup. "I know. I just find it easier to cope when I can blame all of my problems on other people. Now stop avoiding my question. How've you been lately?" he asked again.

Ronon felt a grin tug at his mouth, but he refused to allow it to develop. "How can I complain? I've got a gorgeous wife that I love more than life, a big house, and an annoying pain in the butt of a friend that blames me for everything wrong with him." He laughed at Shep's sudden expression of aggravation. "How about you? How are things going with Elizabeth?" he asked, nudging Shep's shoulder as he changed the subject.

His friend's face brightened. "Did you know we're engaged now?" Shep took another swig of ale to hide his grin.

Ronon raised an eyebrow and wondered why he hadn't heard of this earlier. "No. When did this happen?"

"A week ago. It was my first full day here at the new house – and the same day I hurt this." He paused to point at his wrist. "She came over as soon as she heard. She'd taken off work to make sure that I didn't need any help. With a _sprained wrist_. We'd been dating for almost a year and I knew – know – that she is the one, so I got down on one knee right then." He ended the story with another huge, content grin.

Ronon was shocked he hadn't heard this story earlier from Teyla: after all, the two women were very close friends. "Did you already have the bracelets?" He pointed to the brown bead one that circled his left wrist. Bracelets made of beads the color of the opposite spouse's eyes were worn after marriage, but were typically purchased for the actual proposal.

John shook his head sheepishly. "Not yet," he admitted. "It was kind of a spur-of-the-moment thing, so I didn't have time. We went to the market the next day, though, and I let her pick out the style she wanted." He smiled wider. "I'm just glad she said 'yes'!" He tipped his head back and grinned again.

"You've got it _bad_," Ronon chuckled as he stood to leave.

"I don't care." John glanced at the clock perched on the mantle. "Oh! I'm meeting her in a half hour. I'd better let you go."

Ronon shrugged on his coat. The winter season rapidly approached, and the air cooled rapidly as the sun began to go down. "Yeah. I've gotta head out, too. Teyla's waiting on me." He put the chair back where he found it and headed for the door.

Shep put a hand on Ronon's shoulder to stop him as he said seriously: "We're both very lucky men, you know that?"

Ronon smiled and nodded. "I know Shep. Believe me, I know." _I couldn't be any luckier._

**Atlantis**

"So, Teyla, how are you doing?" Elizabeth asked softly as she sat next to Teyla. "You weren't at the debriefing, so I thought I'd come to you. I'm starting to worry about you. I think you should take a break. I'll stay here if you want. I can clear my schedule."

Teyla exhaled loudly. "Thank you, Elizabeth, but I think my place is here. It is obvious that Ronon – _recognizes_ me." She shook her head, still in minor shock of the previous events. "I am not tired, and you are a busy woman. I am fine." For something to do, she stood and walked over to the water cooler in the corner to get a drink for them both.

"Teyla, is there something that you want to talk about? I can't get past the feeling that you're doing this out of guilt. You know this isn't your fault, right?" She accepted the cup of water that Teyla brought her with a brief smile, but her expression quickly turned serious again.

Teyla paused and looked down into her cup. She _knew_ this situation was her fault. The whole _mission_ was her fault. She also knew Elizabeth was too kind to let her live in grief. "I believe that what is done is done, and I need to stay here until he is conscious and stable," she said diplomatically.

Elizabeth had dealt with too many diplomats to take that for an answer. She put a hand on Teyla's shoulder. "Teyla, this _isn't your fault_," she said softly. "You need to get some rest. No one is blaming you, so you shouldn't either."

Teyla let out her breath and shook her head. "I am not so sure. Regardless, I am not tired, and you look exhausted. Please, let me stay here. The moment I feel drowsy, I promise to contact you." Teyla said this with full intentions not to obey. She knew her place was here with her teammate and she was going to do everything in her power to stay here. They would have to drag her off kicking and screaming if they wanted her to leave.

"Thank you," Elizabeth said softly. She seemed to buy Teyla's words. "Would you like me to stay?" she asked through a yawn.

Teyla looked down at her watch. Elizabeth was to report in for her job in almost five hours, and she hadn't slept yet. "No. You need your rest, Elizabeth. I will—"

A voice from beside her cut her off suddenly. Both women whipped around to face Ronon, who was awake again.

"I heard the news about you and Shep. Congratulations," Ronon said directly to Atlantis's leader.

Elizabeth stood, confused by the statement. Panic was clear on her face and in her eyes.

Teyla leaned in to whisper in her friend's ear. "Dr. Beckett has suggested we play along with his – delusions until he is lucid," she prompted.

She nodded. "Thank you," she whispered in relief. Then, raising her voice to normal, she said to Ronon, "Thank you. I am – very happy."

The generic answer seemed to satisfy Ronon. "I bet." He turned to his "wife" and reached out a hand to her. Teyla immediately stepped forward and held it in hers, by now accustomed to the motion. "Why didn't you tell me?" he asked with certain frustration.

"What did I keep from you?" she asked. She did her best to act hurt at the assumption. Then she paused. It was becoming easier and easier to go along with him. Was it for more reasons than just experience?

The thought made her have to swallow back the flutters in her throat and _not_ tighten her hand around Ronon's.

"That she and Shep are engaged." He pointed to Elizabeth. "I thought you two are close friends, what her running the city and you practically running the orphanage."

Teyla swallowed her confusion and scrambled for a suitable answer. _First he thought this was part of his delusions, then he was confused, and now he is more lucid and _still_ doesn't realize this is Atlantis? _Something about this confused her deeply, but she wasn't even sure what. "Uh. I-I am sorry. She did not tell me." She looked at Elizabeth, pleading with her eyes for assistance.

Dr. Weir's cheeks were still brushed pink with embarrassment from Ronon's previous comment. "I'm sorry about that, Teyla. I just haven't had time to stop by and see you, what with planning the wedding and all," she covered smoothly.

"I understand. You know, you got a good man. He loves you more than you'll ever know." Ronon told her seriously.

Teyla swallowed hard, and tears pushed at the back of her eyes. She'd never known this gentler side of Ronon to exist. What else about him had she yet to discover?

Elizabeth's only response was to blush again. She opened her mouth, but apparently had no clue what to say. The expression on her face nearly shouted: _Me and John? John and me?_

At that moment, "How are you feeling, lad?" Carson asked as he came in for his bi-hourly check-in.

"Saved by the bell," Teyla heard Elizabeth mutter under her breath.

"What?" Carson asked. He looked up and took the stethoscope out of his ears.

"I'm sorry I didn't radio you sooner. I was – distracted." Elizabeth's voice shook slightly. Teyla could tell she needed to leave and clear her mind, so she offered her friend an out.

"Try to get some sleep. We will keep you updated." She whispered.

Elizabeth looked relieved as she nodded. "Thank you, Teyla. Remember, though, I'm willing to come back the _second_ that you feel the _least_ bit tired. I still think that you need to get some rest," she repeated pointlessly.

"I know." She said in a sighing way. Elizabeth nodded in Carson's direction and said good-bye to Ronon before leaving to attempt sleep.

Teyla turned to focus on what was going on behind her – Ronon.

--

He looked around the room, momentarily confused. _Wasn't I just at home? I must be having dreams about having dreams. _

He looked up at her and smiled.

_Teyla's here, so something must be right._ He told himself, not sure of what that meant. He could feel how his mind was clouded, jumbled, confused. He wondered if it was still from the pain medicine that decimated his headache.

"Is something wrong?" Teyla asked, subconsciously stroking the back of his hand with her thumb.

"Must not be, you're here." He smiled.

_Wait. Something's wrong. Isn't this usually when she would kiss me of something? Why does she look so awkward? Is this another one of my dreams? _

"Where am I really?" he asked in a suddenly curt voice.

Teyla paused and looked up at Carson, not sure of what to say. He seemed lucid enough, but she didn't want to chance it.

"You're in the infirmary, lad. You'll be able to go home soon. You just need to stay another day or two so I can be certain that you're perfectly well." He said as if he were speaking to a slightly incoherent person, which he was.

Ronon felt Teyla's thumb stroking his hand. _Maybe she's just being so distant because the doc's here, too. Maybe this isn't a dream. _

When Teyla noticed what she was doing, she froze.

Ronon frowned. His eyes grew groggy although he was unaware. Without his knowing, his eyes closed. _This is a dream and I want to wake up _now_!_

_To Be Continued_


	6. Chapter 5

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, etc.

Part 6/21

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Chapter 5

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Sateda

Ronon jolted upright in bed. _That was – eerie,_ he thought. He rubbed his eyes tiredly and wonder why he kept having these dreams. _I guess that's just part of life. The better it is, the more you're afraid to lose what you have._

"Ronon?" his wife said, worried. A delicate hand settled on his shoulder and gentle fingers began to stroke. "Did you have another dream? What happened?" She gently turned his head and gazed into his eyes. Hers brimmed with worry, fear, and curiosity: enough to send a pang through his heart.

"I'm fine, Teyla, honest. It was nothing, really. More _weird_ than scary. I'll be okay." He looked out the window and saw sunlight streaming in. He rubbed his eyes again and stifled a yawn. "What time is it?"

Teyla paused for a moment. "It is time to get up."

Ronon huffed a breath of laughter and kissed Teyla's forehead. _I hope when Teyla and I _finally_ get time to get away together I won't keep waking up at the same time every morning. This internal alarm clock of mine is nice, but would be terribly annoying – otherwise._

"Ronon," Teyla said, successfully recapturing his attention. "Are you sure it would not be best if you talked about your dreams? I feel you are – _hiding_ something. I have heard that, once talked about, bad dreams often leave." Her words reminded him of his one and only visit to Sateda's psychologist. He respected Dr. Heightmeyer, but still made it a point not to return. Psychology wasn't for him; neither as a patient nor a doctor.

"I'm fine." Ronon looked away, afraid eye contact would make him cave to those beautiful eyes.

Teyla picked up on that and gently held his face again, which forced him to look at her. "Ronon." She breathed his name in such a loving tone. No pet name could ever compete with the way she spoke his given one. "I want you to be okay. I want all of this to stop for you. I want to _help_." Tears shimmered brightly in her dark eyes; quickly she looked away to hide them.

Ronon reached out to hold her close. He put his arm around her shoulder and his head on top of hers. "I'm fine, my love, I promise. But, if it will make you feel better, I'll tell you what's happening." Turning his face into her hair briefly to steal a breath of her intoxicating scent, he gently kissed the crown of her golden head.

Teyla stifled her tears and reached her arms out to wrap around his waist. "I want you to tell me, but not for me. I want to do this for _you_," she clarified.

Ronon rolled his eyes, safe in the knowledge she wouldn't see the motion. "I don't know, Teyla. The thing that bothered me most was – you." He paused, afraid the wrong wording would cause problems.

"Me?" Teyla lifted her head to look into his eyes again.

"Yeah. You were there, but you were – different somehow. It was like you didn't think we're married. Or – worse – you didn't – love me anymore." As he spoke, his eyes moistened. This was probably one of the worst nightmares that he could imagine. To cover his emotion, he buried his face in her neck.

As he lowered his head, he caught a glitter in Teyla's eyes. They showed something, a certain understanding. Her head tilted to rest against his; her warm breath stirred the air by his ear. "You know that wasn't me, though." She stroked his arm with gentle, soothing fingers. "_This_ is me." She took his hand and lifted it to kiss his palm, as if to prove that she was there. "I love you more than _anything_ else in this world, and _nothing_ will ever change that."

Instantly, the room grew tense; emotion-filled.

"I just don't want to lose you," he admitted quietly into her neck. He squeezed her hand tightly as his thumb absently moved to brush across her marriage bracelet.

Teyla shifted to kneel in the bed, her eyes level with his. Slowly, softly, she cupped his face in her hands and pulled him in. Then she kissed him, a show of her deep love and passion for him.

Ronon twined his arms around her waist, afraid to let her go. The kiss slowly turned into an embrace: he wasn't willing to loosen his grip.

"I understand your dreams, I think. But you must know that _that_ is not real. _I_ am real. _This_ is real. You need to forget about the dream and remember that _this_, _us_, is what matters. What matters is that I will always be here and I will always love you." She whispered the words into his ear softly.

He pushed her away carefully, tear-filled eyes gazing at her. He knew she was right, but needed assurance. He pulled her close again and kissed her firmly, intensely. She let him, knowing he needed proof of her unending love and devotion.

After the kiss, he slowly forced himself to pull away. "Just promise me that you will never leave me," he begged, still slightly breathless.

"I promise." She nodded; trying with every fiber of her being to not point out how utterly silly the whole thought was.

They realized the time at the exact same moment, and they both rushed to get ready for the day and left with little more than a word of farewell and a brief – but passionate – goodbye kiss.

On the way to work, Ronon heaved a sigh. _She's right. I know she is. It's not real. It's _not_ real. _

If that was the case, however, why did he have to try so hard to convince himself?

**Seven and a half hours later -- Sateda**

"So – ooh! – tell me again how you – ah! – got off so – oomph – early," John said. His words were punctuated by grunts, as he was trying to talk and spar at the same time.

Ronon blocked a sloppy attack and countered with a direct blow to the chest, careful to avoid his friend's injured wrist. Though Beckett had released Shep to spar in preparation for going back to work, Dex was sure that didn't include re-injuring his wrist. "I – ah!" he blocked another blow, aimed at the head, and tried to return the hit unsuccessfully. He pulled back to take a break, since both of them were getting tired.

They circled the area of Shep's den that he'd designated a sparring area; each waited for the other to attack.

Ronon used this opportunity to speak. "Kell sent me home early. He said I – was having _problems_ focusing." He spun the rod in his right hand.

"Oh? What's that mean?" Shep's strategy was obvious: keep his opponent talking until he wasn't paying attention, then make his move.

Ronon knew this, but talked anyway. He never let his guard down – a very carefully cultivated talent – so he could multitask. "I've got a lot on my mind, that's all. Plus, I've been pulling so many extra hours that he figured I could use and extra hour off." He lunged with his last words, catching Shep off guard.

He made contact with Shep's good arm.

John responded with a strike to the ribs.

Ronon caught it, too late. He retaliated with a blow Shep's back.

John blocked, clumsily but effectively.

The next minute was filled with snaps, twists, hits, misses, blocks, grunts, and sweat. After Ronon sustained a substantial cut to his shoulder, they pulled back, both breathing heavily.

"So—" Shep started before he realized he needed to breathe, not talk. He paused, took some deep breaths, and returned to his statement. "Problems with the wife?" he asked. He bent to pick up the rod that had been knocked out of his hand.

"Not really." Ronon avoided eye contact by going to get a towel, not that he _didn't_ need it.

Shep raised an eyebrow.

"I don't want to talk about it," Ronon muttered. He didn't want it to turn into another "feelings" discussion.

"Is it about the dreams you said that you've been having?" Shep relaxed his position and stopped the sparring momentarily.

Ronon paused and tossed his friend a puzzled look. "When did I tell you about that?" he asked. He tried to remember himself, but came up blank.

"I don't know. Yesterday, the day before, something like that. Are they getting any worse? They didn't sound that bad to me." He walked into his kitchen to get some water, both rods still grasped in his left hand.

Ronon paused and thought a moment. Something about John made him feel more willing to share. He thought it might be the fact that John wasn't emotionally involved in any way or perhaps because he was just a guy – and Ronon's closest friend.

However, he still didn't want to say _too_ much.

"I don't know." He decided to share his feelings, but not the facts. He was afraid Shep would think of him as weak. "It's not like I'm scared or anything like that – honest. What gets me the most is that it's just strange. She – Teyla, I mean – is there, but it's like she doesn't understand we're married or something. Everyone – _she_ – is treating me like – I don't know how to describe it. Another thing: I _know_ I've never seen the place before in my life, but it still feels familiar." He didn't know what he was saying, but it _did_ feel good to get these emotions off his chest.

"That's crazy, Ronon. Dreams are strange like that. I don't know why you're letting it get to you like this. I mean, dreams are dreams and they're always strange and confusing." John set his cup down and moved a rod into his right hand and spun it. The movement seemed even more natural than yesterday, so his wrist really _was_ healing nicely. Hopefully he'd be back in training within the next couple of days.

Ronon tensed, ready for any tricks that Shep might try to slip in. "Yeah, I know, that's what Teyla said."

Shep wasn't moving, so Ronon shrugged. He turned his back on Shep, pretending to look for something. _3. . .2. . . 1_

"Ahhhh!" John charged like a madman.

Ronon was ready. He spun and blocked with his left, using his right arm to strike his opponent's side.

Neither of them had the strength or energy to continue, so Ronon did them both a favor. With Shep's next lunge, he caught the man's good wrist, spun him into the wall, and pressed his rod against his neck. "I guess it's silly that I'm letting this get to me," he continued.

John tilted his head, showing that he agreed, but didn't want to offend. "I wouldn't say that _exactly,_ but—"

"You _did_ say that," Ronon disagreed. He subconsciously pushed the rod deeper into Shep's neck.

"Oh, well then, I guess I was right. Hey, just wondering. Did you ever kill anyone while sparring like this?" he asked curiously.

Ronon raised an eyebrow. "No. Why?"

"Well, you're about to." He lifted a hand and pointed to Ronon's right rod, so deep into Shep's neck that his face was slightly purple.

Ronon chuckled. "First time for everything, you know." He pushed a little harder for a moment, fully intending to let go.

John yelped – and used the rod in his hand to smack Ronon across the face. "Ha!" he said. When Ronon backed off and rubbed his face, John doubled over, gasping for breath.

He had won, in fact, because blood started to run down Ronon's cheek.

"Crap, I'm sorry! Hang on, let me get you towel." Shep spoke slowly, each word punctuated by glances in a different direction. At last he found Ronon's towel and threw it to his bleeding friend.

"Thanks. I _really_ gotta get home. After this morning—" He realized he was talking out loud; stopped, and changed his wording. "—she's probably waiting for me." He cleared his throat and headed for the door. "See you tomorrow, Specialist!" he called over his shoulder.

As he tugged the door shut behind him, he heard a faint: "Yeah, see you" as Shep walked back to his kitchen.

Ronon jogged all the way home, so anxious to get there it was a physical ache inside him. As soon as he came in the door to his house, he didn't even think about hanging his belongings in their proper places. He just threw them on the floor and ran in to see his wife.

As soon as she saw him coming, her humming stopped and smile brightened as he swept her up into a hug, not even pausing to watch her as he usually did. "I'm so sorry about this morning," he mumbled into her neck. "I know it was stupid. I know that you're you and you'll never leave me. I'm sorry for letting a stupid dream change my thoughts about you." He said everything in one breath as soon as he put her down.

Her response was as smile as she reached up to lock her hands around his neck and pull him down to her. She paused nose-to-nose with him, her eyes aglow with love. "I know," she said simply.

Ronon wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close to him. Bodies pressed together, they kissed each other, as if it was their way to seal the deal and put the matter behind them.

They continued for longer than either of them imagined. A long time skittered by like a breath before Teyla brought her mind back to the kitchen, with a little help from her nose. "Ancestors! I ruined dinner again!" she cried. She spun out of Ronon's arms and fanned the smoke away from their small cookstove with her hands. "Oh, no."

Ronon took her face in his hands and turned her to look at him again. "Leave it," he said softly. He pulled her into another kiss as he stroked her back and hair with his hands.

After a moment he paused and quickly pulled the charred, unrecognizable meat out of the oven before it burned the house down. He set it on the stovetop and immediately forgot about it. He turned and scooped his wife up into his arms. "I don't care about dinner right now."

She smiled, wrapped her arms around his neck, and drew her lips to his as they traveled deeper into the house.

**Atlantis**

Teyla sat alone in Ronon's room, watching Ronon sleep -- if what he was doing could be called _sleeping_. However, since Elizabeth had come by, Teyla noticed that she had a lot more visitors, all offering to take over watching Ronon. She denied every offer, and they each left.

She had been alone for about fifteen minutes, meaning that another visitor was due at any moment.

"Hi. I thought I'd just stop by and see how you and Ronon were doing," said a voice that made Teyla tense.

It wasn't that she didn't like him as a person, it was more that she felt that he had stronger feelings for her, a fact that made her awkward ever time they were together.

"Major Lorne, thank you for stopping by. We are doing well." She tried not to appear as if she was rushing the conversation.

"You can call me Marcus." He nodded, taking a seat next to her.

She nodded back, not wanting to oblige. "Should you not be asleep right now?" she asked, knowing that it was the middle of the night for everyone except night guards and over-worked, under-paid scientists.

"Um, well, I was up, so I thought I'd check on you." He said, his tone telling her that he was "up" with the help of an alarm.

"Well, I appreciate your concern. I am well, I do not need rest." She shifted in her chair, farther away from him.

"Well, would you like me to stay and keep you company?" he said in an up-beat tone.

_Ancestors, he really can not take a hint. _She didn't know what to say. She tried to come up with an excuse.

"Okay, I'm tired of this," said the third voice in the room.

Lorne nearly jumped out of his seat, forgetting that there was another person there.

"What are you talking about, Ronon?" She shrugged in Lorne's direction at the latter's confused look.

"I'm talking about this dream. I'm tired of it. What are the Ancestors trying to tell me?" Ronon growled.

Teyla hesitantly hit her radio button. "Dr. Beckett, it is I. Ronon is awake." She turned back to a livid, confused Ronon. "I do not know what you mean."

"How are you feeling, lad?" Carson said as he entered the room. As soon as he stepped up to the bed, he could feel the tension in the room: Something wasn't right.

Ronon didn't answer; he just stared at Teyla, waiting for an answer.

"Look, I know that you probably have a lot of questions, but my job is to make sure that you're okay. I promise that the moment you're cleared to leave, we'll answer all of your questions. Now, do feel any pain?" he said, glancing between Ronon and Teyla until he finally had Ronon's attention.

Ronon rolled his eyes. _I should just play along, that will get this all done a lot faster. _He just prayed that he didn't wake up before his questions were answered.

"No, I feel fine I just want to know what-" he stopped as Dr. Beckett started taking his pulse, testing his pupils, and doing other annoying things.

"You seem to be perfectly healthy now. I'm sorry to say, though, that we need to leave for a short meeting in the briefing room." Caron nodded to Teyla, telling her this for the first time.

She didn't like the idea. The longer it took them to tell Ronon the truth, the harder it would be for him to separate from his other world- whatever that was. She hesitated, standing up slowly.

"We need to leave now, lass. I'll have other doctors stay and monitor him." he relayed Elizabeth's previous orders.

Teyla found it hard to leave, she had spent two days straight there. She didn't know if she could just walk out now that he was awake.

She didn't have much choice. Carson grabbed her arm and politely escorted her out.

She watched the expression on Ronon's face. He truly believed that this world was false. He was really mad at them for keeping him. _This is not going to be easy._

_-To Be Continued-_


	7. Chapter 6

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, warnings, pairing, etc.

Part 7/21

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Chapter 6

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Atlantis

"So what you _think_ your life is, is merely a dream. It is others trying to confuse you into giving them information," Teyla finished almost two hours later.

"If what you say is true, then why didn't you tell me earlier?" Ronon asked in disbelief.

"Because we wanted to be sure you were okay and we did not want to confuse you further."

The only good thing about this situation: Teyla was the only one present. Any more, and Ronon would have refused to so much as hear her out. "I don't believe you." He broke eye contact to stare at the wall ahead of him.

"I am not lying," she said pointlessly.

He sat up and leaned forward, able to loom even half-reclined. "I _do not_ believe you!" he growled.

"Than I am truly sorry, Ronon. Until you do, you will continue to be confused." Teyla leaned forward slightly to meet his gaze, proof that he didn't intimidate her.

"Leave me," he commanded. He wanted her gone partly because he didn't want to hear more lies, but mostly because he was exhausted.

The Teyla that couldn't be looked at him with betrayal in her soft eyes. "All right. I will leave, if that is what you wish. But what I say is still the truth. I hope you come to believe and that—" She stopped and visibly swallowed. "—and that you no longer hate me." Concern rested heavily on her thin, tired features as she turned to leave.

The set of her shoulders and back as she left, and the way her arms wrapped around herself, made it clear she didn't want to go.

Ronon laid down in bed again and sighed. Even though, for some reason, the Teyla in this dream had lied to him, he could _never_ hate her. She was Teyla.

He lay there and stared into space until darkness clouded his eyes and sleep took over.

**Sateda**

Ronon woke quietly, peacefully; a great contrast to the previous morning. He wasn't concerned about the dream the night before or the fact that his brain was trying to gush out of his ears. In all actuality, he couldn't even remember the dream. All he could think of was the small figure curled against his side.

He didn't want to wake her, she looked so peaceful. But he _had_ to touch her, to feel her softness.

He gently stroked her bare arm, then her hair. Gently he moved a few strands off her face as he leaned in to kiss her neck.

As his lips brushed her warm skin, he felt a hand on the side of his face. He lifted his head and met his wife's gaze. "I love you, _so _much." Ronon didn't have to think about the words, they came naturally from deep inside him.

She kissed him softly. "I love you too," she whispered with endearing sleepiness.

"Know what I decided?" he asked. He laid his head back down and put an arm around Teyla to pull her closer. Her strong warmth against his side made everything but her feel so distant, so inconsequential.

"What?" she questioned. She lay her head on his shoulder and a hand on his bare chest.

"The dreams don't matter. I've decided they're just that: dreams. I'm going to forget about them. I only care about _you_." He felt her tense under his arm, then just as quickly relax.

Teyla lay quietly for a while and processed his words. At last, "I believe that is wise. I do not think you should let them affect you. However, I also believe that much can be learned from dreams. It might be wise to try and find truth in them," she suggested.

He turned to her and smiled. _This is one of the reasons why I don't meditate, _he thought to himself. However, he was wise enough not to say it aloud. "If you say so." He kissed her again just because he could.

She wrapped her arms around him and pressed herself closer to him. A sigh of contentment blew her warmth breath across his throat as Ronon stroked her hair. Eventually she raised her head and drew her lips to his.

Ronon pulled away for a breath a moment later and looked outside. "Ancestors! I'm late!" he exclaimed as sat up.

Teyla giggled and swiftly caught his arm. "Stay a little longer, please? Let me make you breakfast." She reached over the side of the bed, found one of his shirts, and put it on.

"Okay," he said agreeably. He was very easily convinced when Teyla was in such high spirits. Kell would be furious, but he didn't care. He was the best soldier his commander had ever seen, so he wouldn't get in a _lot_ of trouble. "Don't you have to go to work?" he asked as he followed her into the kitchen. "I don't want to make you late."

Teyla paused to stand on tiptoe, kiss his jaw, and smile at him. "Yes, I do. But, there is a woman named Nahera at the orphanage today. She is new, but has trained for weeks now. She will manage in my absence." Teyla quickly searched her neat kitchen for the right ingredients and she didn't hear Ronon walk up behind her.

"Sounds good to me." He whispered in her ear and wrapped his arms around her waist.

Teyla briefly leaned her head back against him. He took the opportunity to kiss her neck, over her clan tattoo. A moment later she found what she'd been looking for and he released her to continue cooking.

"Would you like an omelet?" she asked.

"Ham and cheese, please." Ronon pulled himself up to sit on the counter to watch her. Teyla moved with such grace, without effort. No matter how much she rushed, she never lost her balance, or knocked anything over. For Ronon, she could never stop looking like a goddess: _his_ goddess.

"So how long has Nahera been there?" he asked. He was unable to tear his eyes from her lean form as she moved about the kitchen while she heated the skillet and cracked eggs.

"Two lunar cycles. But she will only stay through the carnival in two and a half weeks. After that, she will return to her work at home." She raised her voice to be heard over the sizzle of their heating breakfast.

"You still haven't told me what I can do to help with that," he reminded her. He much enjoyed the carnival: surprisingly, despite his lack of experience with them, he liked kids. Even more surprisingly, they liked him too. The carnival was an annual day-long celebration for Sateda. It was mostly for the orphaned children, but all were welcome. There were also healers for those who could not afford help. It was Ronon's favorite day of the year.

She took the skillet off of their little stove and put the omelets on plates. "I wanted to wait until I found something I know you will enjoy," she admitted sheepishly.

He picked both plates up and carried them to the table and returned for Teyla. She had moved to the sink and was now washing dishes. He lifted her and placed her in front of her plate as steam and a heavenly aroma wafted up to their noses. "I'll wash them when I'm done."

Teyla smiled endearingly at him as they held hands to bless the food and started to eat.

After a few moments of silence, Teyla spoke up. "I understand you do not want to talk about it, but I am willing to help you understand your dreams." She squirmed a little as she spoke. She knew she quite possibly could have opened a can of worms.

Ronon paused. For a minute he didn't think about anything: anything except his throbbing head and his vow not to worry her. What was he supposed to say? He took his last bite, grabbed her empty plate, and went back to the kitchen to wash the dishes.

She followed, quietly and apprehensively, and waited for his response.

"I know," he said at last. "I just don't want to talk about it right now," he said coldly. He turned his back to her and plunged his hands into the now-lukewarm dishwater.

"I understand," she said softly to the back of his head. When he didn't respond, "Ronon?" She pulled his arm to turn him into her gaze.

He let her. They stared at each other for a very uncomfortable few seconds. Then the corners of Teyla mouth drew up, as if to say that the animosity was behind them.

She put one hand on the side of his face and drew him down to her. She kissed him until he dropped the soapy plate back into the water and put his arm around her neck. She looked back up at him, lips tilted into a lovely smile. "Thank you for doing the dishes." She chuckled.

He smiled, and his love for her overflowed into his eyes. He tried to slightly turn back to the sink, but couldn't. So he gave in and put his hand, still covered in soap suds, on her waist, and kissed her again. "Thanks for making breakfast." He grinned in contentment as he turned to finish his previous job.

"It was my pleasure," she said. She wrapped her arms around his waist, rested her head against the middle of his back, and sighed. "Now I must leave. The children are surely all awake by now." She kissed his shoulder, detached herself, and went to the bedroom to get dressed.

Ronon quickly finished and followed her in. "I'm not going to visit Shep tonight," he said with a sly grin. "I'll be thinking about you too much. I'm going to rush back as soon as I get off," he said in response to her questioning glance.

He watched her come out of the bathroom, already fully dressed and ready to go. _How does she do it?_

"That would not be wise. I believe he needs your company to keep up his spirits." She walked up to kiss him goodbye.

He held the back of her head as she tilted it up. He didn't want to let her go – now or ever.

"I will miss you, though," she said. Her eyes remained closed even after he pulled away.

He stared at Teyla, his love, his life, and sighed. _She is just so – _perfect_. Thank you, Teyla, for your unending love._ "Believe me, I'll hurry," he promised in a loving yet devious voice.

Finished at the same time, they left the house together. Ronon held her hand tightly and walked her to work before he went to his. He couldn't help but smile the whole way.

**Eight and a half hours later**

"Let me get this straight. You were over an _hour_ late to work _just_ so you could stay for _breakfast_?" John asked. His tone was full of disbelief and mischief as they sparred. Shep was healing faster than expected with Elizabeth's help, so they were free to do "real man" sparring as Ronon called it: no weapons, just fists.

Ronon pushed him off, and his friend stumbled back a few feet. "Yes, that's _all,_" he repeated. "Perv," he muttered under his breath. He knew why Shep kept asking.

Shep stood and moved his shoulder around, as if to ensure that it wasn't dislocated. "Okay, okay, I guess I believe you."

Ronon raised an eyebrow and stepped forward to meet his opponent. "Good. Now I can sleep tonight." He hunched down and started circling Shep as if his friend were prey.

Shep rolled his eyes and prepared for a painful attack. "You know, I still don't get something about this. You're the best soldier – better than Kell even, if you ask me. I don't understand why he would get be harsh on you, even if you didn't show up at all. Shouldn't he cut you some slack?" Shep anticipated an attack and leaped to the left. It was a good thing, too. If he hadn't, he would've been trapped Ronon's intimidating form.

Ronon paused to regain his balance after a leap into nothing. "Nah, I think he was doing it more of as an example. I wouldn't tell him _why_ I was late. He would've been madder if I told him I was late because of breakfast. Plus, his only punishment was to make me stay an hour later for the rest of the week."

Shep settled into a fighting stance, ready for anything – so he hoped. "But tomorrow is the last day of the week," he pointed out curiously.

Ronon walked up to him and aimed a punch at his face, slow enough for Shep to stop it. "_Exactly_," he said with a smile. The punishment was mild, and he wasn't going to complain. "Not so bad compared to what the other guys would have gotten. Kell would've stripped and beaten them." He put up an arm to parry a punch, then retaliated with a kick to the ribs.

John blocked Ronon's punch to the head and opened his mouth to reply. "Oomph," he answered as Ronon's kick brushed his side.

"Sorry, sorry," was Ronon's immediate response.

John walked over to a wall to lean against it. "'S'okay." He slumped down against the wall and sat on the floor. "I'll be fine. Just – go home now," he said, half-kidding.

"Sorry." Ronon dropped to a crouch in front of his friend. "You sure you'll be okay?" At his friend's nod, he stood, grabbed his belongings, and headed for the door. "I've gotta go. Want me to get you some ice before I head out?"

Sheppard shook his head, then sighed and nodded. "Yes please," he admitted. "'Lizabeth will be here soon, but. . ." He trailed off.

"Got it." Ronon got the ice, took it to his injured friend, and left to return home. At Shep's insistence, he left his fellow soldier on the ground, back against the wall.

As Ronon pulled the door closed behind him, he saw Elizabeth across the square. He ran up to her. "Dr. Weir," he greeted. "I haven't had a chance to say 'congratulations' to you yet." _Or, at least, not to the _real_ you._

"Thank you." Elizabeth smiled, then offered him a questioning look. "Is there something else?" she questioned. She shot a quick look at everyone else surrounding her.

He paused and glanced around the square. Should he tell her? _Yes._ "Um – yeah. I just came from Shep's. I kinda kicked his side a little harder than I thought. I think he's in a lot of pain. I didn't mean to hurt him – that much."

Elizabeth's smile turned to a frown in less than a second. "Oh my. Well – thank you for telling me. I'll check on him right now." She sighed and ran to her betrothed's house.

Ronon half-cringed to himself. _I'll make it up to Sheppard tomorrow,_ he promised.

**Home **

Teyla greeted Ronon at the door as soon as he walked in. She took his belongings and hung them up for him. "I was starting to get worried. What kept you so late?" she asked as they walked into the kitchen.

"I'm so sorry. Kell was mad because I was late, and you told me to still visit Shep, so. . ." He trailed off and wrapped his arms around her. "I missed you." He smiled at her as they stopped in the sitting room. He leaned down to kiss her briefly.

Teyla smiled back as her arms slipped around his waist. "I missed you too. Supper is on the table." Her head tilted up to look into his eyes.

"I'm starved," he said in a loving tone. They continued into the kitchen, Teyla's hand still grasped firmly in Ronon's.

Teyla served the food and placed the plates on the already-set table. As usual, the first few minutes of the meal were spent in silence. Eventually, however, Teyla spoke up.

"So, how was work?" she asked in between bites.

Ronon paused to think of an answer as he finished the food in his mouth. "Good," he finally said. "Kinda long. I'll be home late again tomorrow night, punishment for being late." He scooped up another bite and shoved it into his mouth.

Teyla silently left the table to get a napkin. When she sat back down, she turned her body toward Ronon. "Were you distracted again – the dreams?" she asked, worried.

"No," he forced out. "I _told_ you, I'm not thinking about those stupid dreams anymore." _Ancestors, why does she keep bringing this up? Does she _want_ to fight?_

Teyla slammed her fork down on the table. "Why?! _Why_ won't you share with me? I am just trying to help you!" She stood which gained her a slight height over him.

_Haven't we already talked about this before? Why does she keep pushing me so? _"It's not bothering me! I don't need your help! I'm happy enough just to be here with you!" He stood and yelled back.

Teyla took a quick step back, as if afraid. "I do not think that is true. I think you would be much better if you told me what is going on!" She regained her bravery and leaned toward him again.

"I can't believe you won't let this subject drop! _Why_ is this bothering you?!" He stood straight, determined not to play her game.

She crossed her arms and matched his posture: small, but angry enough to seem taller. "Because I want to know! I want to know what you're keeping from me!"

"Oh, so you don't trust me?" He lowered his tone, but filled his voice with spite.

"No, I do not trust you. Why should I when you will not tell me what is happening?!" She got louder, as if to make up for Ronon's quieter tone.

"Really?! You _really_ feel that way? You think that, if I don't tell you everything, I'm _lying_ to you?!" he roared. Hurt blossomed in his chest, brought on by her words.

"Why should I feel different?" She shrugged and raised her hands to question him.

"Because I'm your _HUSBAND_!" he yelled with all his might. He couldn't believe she was so obsessed with a _dream_. Why did she care?

"Why should that make a difference?" she questioned. Her tone was suddenly very calm.

He stopped, frozen where he stood. _So she really _doesn't_ trust me? She doesn't trust me at all_. "Why should – why – _Ancestors!_ – Teyla, why should that make a difference?" He was hurt by her comment. In the face of her silence, he shook his head, turned, and walked to the door. He grabbed his things and reached for the door.

"Where are you going?" Teyla yelled in from the sitting room, as if uninterested.

Ronon paused as anger welled up inside him. "How about I don't tell you? And how about you think I'm lying to you about everything else in the world!" He threw his hands up and yelled back.

When he didn't hear a response, he stormed out of the house and ran all the way to Shep's. He knocked once, got no response, and walked in.

Shep sat on the couch, engrossed in a book, looking much better than before. He looked up in surprise when his friend came in. "Hey, Ronon! Why are you here?" he said. He was obviously happy to have company, since Elizabeth had left hours ago.

"Feel better?" Ronon asked.

Sheppard's eyebrows raised. "Yes, actually." He carefully gauged Ronon's expression. "Problems?"

"I'm going to sleep on your couch," Ronon admitted. It was all he could do to keep his voice from a growl. It wasn't his friend's fault.

John put his book down and sighed. "Wanna talk about it?"

Ronon sighed tiredly as his shoulders sagged. "No. I want to sleep. Now get up or I'll sleep on your bed."

Ronon's friend snorted a laugh, then rolled his lips together, shamefaced. "Okay, sorry! I'm going, I'm going." Shep grabbed his book, stood up, and went to his bedroom.

Ronon plopped onto the couch and stared at the dark ceiling above him. He stared and turned his and Teyla's fight around in his mind over and over again. _Was _any_ of that my fault?_ he wondered. He just couldn't think of anything he'd done wrong. Normally he would admit when he was wrong, but he didn't think he was in this case.

He laid there and stared until the ceiling faded away and dreams danced before his eyes.

_To Be Continued_


	8. Chapter 7

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairings, etc.

Part 8/21

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Chapter 7

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Atlantis

Ronon's eyes slowly opened and he looked around the infirmary. He could feel it: this was it. This was the day he would get to leave the infirmary – as if it was really a place. _Should I just play along? If the Ancestors really _are_ trying to tell me something, should I act like this isn't a dream? I don't want to, but do I have a choice?_ He paused and answered his own question._ No, not really. _He drew in a deep breath to steel himself. _I'll do what they want. Otherwise, this will never stop, _he admitted to himself. This whole situation infuriated him.

Carson walked in. Obviously, he'd been monitored. "Good afternoon, lad. Ye slept late, but I suppose that's understandable seein' as ye need time to recover. It looks like you're ready to leave. Ye don't seem to need therapy, but ye can stay if that's what ye want." He scurried around the room as he spoke, clicking buttons, disconnecting tubes, gathering items.

Ronon watched the man with a certain amount of awe: not just for the fact that he could move so quickly, but because he knew so well what was he was doing. Beckett's words caught up to him, and he automatically started to get out of bed. _Why would I want to _stay_?_

Carson eyed him and raise one eyebrow. "I'll take that as a 'no,'" the doctor said dryly. "Hold still!" he said as he unconnected Ronon from the last device. "Now then, Teyla's on her way. I think it would be best if you waited for the lass to get here." The doctor's tone was kind, but Ronon knew that it wasn't a request.

"Fine." Ronon settled on the edge of his bed and crossed his arms. "Can I at least have my own clothes?" He looked down at his hospital scrubs.

"Aye, sure. They're over there." Beckett pointed to a pile of clothing on a chair. Obviously, he'd sent for them earlier. "Jus' close the door and ye won't be bothered." And, with that, he left Ronon to his thoughts.

_How long is _this _going to go on? _Ronon snatched his clothes up and dressed quickly as he waited for "Teyla" to get there; Atlantis Teyla not the real one. If only he could bring the real one with him into these crazy dreams.

As soon as he was comfortably dressed in the appropriate clothing, Ronon opened his door. He was slightly surprised when Teyla walked in; she must have been right outside the door waiting for him. "How long have you been waiting?" he asked a little guiltily. He watched curiously as she walked into the room, looking around as if for something in particular.

Teyla's head turned away from him, still looking around the small room. "Not long, just a few minutes. Do you not have any of your things here? Anything you need to take back to your quarters?" She faced him to ask, at last giving up on her search.

"No. Didn't see a need." Ronon stared at her, wondering how long she would beat around the bush.

Teyla drew in a deep breath, something curious in her eyes. It was fear, but not for her safety; fear for something else. "Okay. I suppose that means we can wait before going to your quarters. Are you hungry?"

Ronon's expression remained unchanged, but he was almost smiling on the inside. _Something's different. Why isn't this as bad as I remembered? It's just a stupid dream. _"Starved?" he guessed. To be honest, he wasn't really sure how he felt past confused.

She nodded and smiled. "Then the cafeteria it is." She lead the way out of the room, her footsteps silent and quick.

As soon as they exited the infirmary, Ronon spoke. "Do you want to tell me something?" he hinted. It wasn't that he hated the confused state he was in; it was that it was tearing him and the real Teyla apart. He wanted this to end as soon as possible.

Teyla continued to walk, but her expression changed. She was obviously deep in thought. After a few seconds, she looked up at him again. "What would you like me to tell you?"

_This is easier than I thought. Teyla made it sound like dreams were complicated and confusing._ "Why am I here?" he pressed.

She stopped and turned to look at him. "I told you before. This is your home. What you have thought to be real is merely a dream meant to—"

"I don't believe you," he stopped her.

The earlier look of fear crept back into her dark eyes. "I hope you change your mind, Ronon," she said in a calm, sad voice. She guided him around the last few corners and into the cafeteria.

"If you're not going to tell me anything useful, why are you here?" he asked in a rude, harsh tone. He stopped and crossed his arms, determined to get an answer _now_.

Teyla looked away from his angry gaze and stared off at another wall One hand darted up to her face as if she were wiping away tears. When she turned back to him, her eyes were moist and her voice was shaky. "Perhaps now is not the best time. I must go. Please contact me if you have any further questions." She turned to leave.

_Is she _crying? _Why would she cry? _"Wait!" He gently grabbed her arm.

A flicker of hope filled her eyes as she turned to look at him again.

"How can I contact you?" he asked her. After all, he knew nothing about this place.

The hope in her eyes dissipated. She pointed to his right pocket. "Your radio. Just press the button and speak. I will hear you." She turned and left without waiting for a response.

"Thanks," Ronon said softly to the empty space where she used to be. He looked around the room slowly. "Might as well eat."

Ronon's entire meal was spent in silence, alone. The others in the cafeteria avoided looking at him, as if afraid. "This is a waste of a dream," he sighed. He took the empty tray back and headed to his quarters.

One thing about dreams: he'd noticed that, no matter where he was, he could always go wherever he wanted. It was as if he was creating the building as he went along; like the required information was stored in his subconscious.

_Wow! This place is _big_! _He thought to himself as he scanned his quarters. Something about it was familiar, like maybe he'd dreamed of this place when he was younger. Or, maybe he'd seen this place somewhere before and was feeding off of the memory. _Shep's house looks a lot like this! That's probably it._ He paused._ Is it any _less_ disturbing when you talk to yourself _inside_ your head? I hope so. _He chuckled to himself.

He glanced at the clock mounted on his wall. It went up to 2900, but was only at 2000. _I guess I should be doing something useful, but I really don't want to. _He looked around the room, searching for something with which to fill his time. _This has got to be the most boring dream ever,_ he thought. _Hey! Bantos rods!_ He picked the polished wooden sticks up and swung them around. He embraced the feel of them in his hands, suddenly feeling a little more at home.

Ronon worked hard to fill the rest of the dream with pointlessness as he rested from the stress they had brought previously. The moment he saw the sky redden on the balcony, he retired to his bed and embraced the darkness as it covered his eyes.

**Sateda**

"Ahh!" Ronon awoke to cold water on his face.

Shep leaned in and yelled in his face: "Get up!"

Ronon had always possessed excellent reflexes: both of them knew that. Most of the time, they were used for good. Like in battle: his reflexes had saved lives. Times like now, however, Ronon hated them. Well – disliked them.

Shep fell back from the couch, hand clutched to his nose. "Dex! You punched me in the nose! I was just trying to wake you up." His eyes narrowed over his hand. "By the time I stop the bleeding, we're going to have to _run_ to get to work on time!" He continued to hold his nose while he searched for a towel.

Ronon snickered quietly and pulled his boots on. "Let's get out of here." He slapped Shep on the back and handed him a dishtowel.

Ronon felt awkward walking next to Shep the whole way. He felt as if this was something reserved for Teyla and him. He was just glad the orphanage wasn't on the way. He still hadn't decided what to say when he saw his wife next, or even when he wanted that to be.

Ronon didn't even want to _think_ about it. He just wanted to beat something up. He loved his job. And, as he spent the entire day thinking of nothing but work and his wife, he did it particularly well. The day went by fast and, before he knew it, it was time to leave.

But where would he go? Ronon knew it would be rude to invade on Sheppard again, and he didn't want to go back home. He would have to apologize: and that would be a lie. He _wasn't_ sorry. But he wasn't mad anymore, either. He was just _tired_. Tired of dreams. Tired of fighting. And now tired of how the dreams and fighting _made_ him so tired.

Ronon left the sprawling campus used for military training and decided to roam the streets until he decided where to spend the night.

That's when he saw Teyla, out of the corner of his eye. She was waiting for him, but why?

Teyla saw him and was now coming toward him. Then she was before him, staring into his eyes, her expression guarded. He could tell by the look in her eyes that she wanted to talk. _Is she going to apologize? Does she expect me to?_

Without knowing what to say, he stood there and waited. He stared into her nervous dark eyes as she stopped before him. He watched her blush: was she embarrassed by something?

Teyla opened her mouth to speak, hesitated, sighed. When she did speak, it was in a sad, pain-filled tone. "I came to apologize, Ronon. I thought about what I said last night, a-and I realized after you left that I did not mean it." She looked away, down to where her hands were clutched together with white-knuckled strength. "I-I could not even _believe_ the horrible things I said to you. I am truly sorry. I—" She broke off abruptly and hid her face from him. She didn't want him to see her tears.

Ronon looked up at the sky and swallowed hard. _Oh, Ancestors. This really _is_ her fault – so why does it hurt me so much to see her cry?_

He lowered his head and took a slow step forward, wrapped his arms around her, and rested his head on hers. "It's okay, Teyla. I understand. I forgive you," he said softly. He hugged her a little closer and buried his hand in her soft hair.

She looked up and him with beautiful brown eyes. "Thank you," she smiled.

Teyla finally stepped away from him. It was nice to see her face lit up again, her lips curled with a smile. "There is more, but – I do not want to tell you here. Are you hungry? I did not make supper, but. . ." She trailed off and gazed apologetically at him.

"Starved. Come on – let's go the Prancing Pony." He took her hand and led her in the direction of the restaurant in which they'd had their first official date. He figured it was appropriate. _What could she possibly have to tell me? Why won't she tell me now? Did she get a promotion? She's been working for one for years. Ancestors, I can't handle any more bad news!_ He unconsciously tightened his hand around hers and _prayed_.

When they arrived at the restaurant, Ronon asked for a table in the back. He wanted them to have privacy. The hostess was known for being. . ._stubborn_, but she just stared up at him, giggled, and seated him at the table he'd asked for.

Teyla smiled when she noticed what had taken place. She knew how beautiful her man was, but she had trouble figuring out why he'd picked _her_ when practically every other woman on Sateda had been beating at his door since he was thirteen.

They ordered their food without speaking to each other. _If what she wants to tell me is so important, why is she taking to long? _Ronon was staring at her, and he knew she knew it. She gazed around the room, avoiding eye contact with him.

Eventually, Ronon couldn't take it any more. He leaned in and put a hand on her arm. "Teyla, please, what's going on?"

She inhaled sharply and looked him deep in the eyes. Something big was coming. Bigger than a promotion. Her hand moved to cover his as she let out her breath and began to speak. "Once I realized how foolish I was last night, I started to feel _awful_. So this morning, I-I went to see Dr. Beckett." She paused to let her words sink in while she planned what to say next.

Tears immediately filled Ronon's eyes. The last time she'd started a conversation like this, it was with information about the miscarriage. He couldn't stand it if she was dying of— He jumped and gave himself a sharp mental shake. _No, I refuse to think that way! She _will_ be fine._

Ronon laid his other hand over hers and moved his thumb over the back of it, more for himself than her. Her being sick was the one thing that scared him most.

Teyla's eyes flashed up to his as she began again. "He told me that—" She stopped again and took a deep breath as a smile brightened her face once more.

_Something good? What could he have told her? Why won't she just spit it out?_ The thoughts spun dizzily through his mind. "What, Teyla? _What_ did he tell you?" he responded to her silence.

Teyla whispered her next three words. "I am pregnant." Then she laughed, overjoyed.

Ronon jumped out of his chair to sit in the one next to hers. "Really?! Are you okay? Do you need anything?" he asked quickly. He couldn't remember how _not_ to talk, he was just so _happy_.

Wait. _We've done this before. It ended badly. How do we know it's not going to end badly again? Does she realize this? I don't care! I'm going to be happy for her and just make sure that she has everything she needs._ Ronon leaned forward and rested his forehead against Teyla's as a grin burst from deep within him.

She giggled, her eyes aglow with happiness. "Yes, Ronon, I promise I am _fine_. Dr. Beckett assures me I am in good health." She placed her hand atop Ronon's as he rested his on her stomach as if he could feel something already.

"How much longer? I mean – how long have you – when will you—?" He stammered to a close, so ecstatic he couldn't speak correctly.

Teyla began to laugh again, happy merely because he was. The fight was far behind them now. "I have been pregnant for two and a half lunar cycles. It will come in about seven." Her fingers splayed across his, still resting on her flat stomach.

He looked up from her stomach, into her eyes, and saw the woman whom he was so in love with. The woman he would die for. The woman carrying his child. He kept his left hand on her stomach as he lifted his right to cradle her face. He gently, softly, kissed her. He had no reason except for the fact he loved her more than anything else in the world. He would do _anything_ for her.

"_Ahem_," the hostess said abruptly. She stood behind them, two plates of food in her hands.

Neither of them had realized how long they'd been in their embrace. Or that they were in such a public place. "Good thing we're in the back," Ronon mumbled to himself as he returned to his chair across from Teyla.

His wife smoothly grabbed the food. "Thank you," she said with a nod. The waitress smiled politely and left as Teyla handed Ronon his meal across the table.

Ronon didn't realize the hostess went out of her way to bring them their food, but Teyla did. It took all she had not to smile, laugh, or giggle. She lasted just until the hostess was out of sight before she chuckled.

"What?" he asked with a mouthful of food.

Teyla took a bite of her mushroom ravioli and shook her head. "Nothing, my love."

Ronon eyed her askance. "Okay. So, I was thinking: Shep made me promise that, if I ever had a boy, I'd name him 'John'." He vigorously cut another piece of steak.

One glance from her told him his promise would not be fulfilled. "Did he agree to name his son 'Ronon'?" She leaned toward him curiously.

Ronon laughed. "No. Dexter."

She gave him an inquisitive look, her eyes narrowed.

"What? I think it's funny." He shrugged.

Teyla laughed and continued to eat. Every now and then, they would mention names, only to be shot down by their spouse. Once they were both finished, Ronon paid and escorted her home, her hand small and warm in his.

Teyla turned to look at the sky, not wanting to follow Ronon into the house just yet. "Wow. It is later than I thought." She softly closed the door behind her, turning to face Ronon.

"Yeah, it is." Ronon stood from untying his boots and turned to look at her, not realizing how close she was. He had to catch her before she hit the ground as he nearly spun into her.

He held her in his arms and stared at her, into those eyes that held so much love. He could only stare at his beautiful wife. He only stared, paralyzed by her beauty, and his love. She stared back, obviously thinking the same things about him.

He did the only thing he knew to do. He kissed her, gently, as if afraid he'd hurt the baby. But he didn't let her go. He was afraid to. If he let her out of his sight, it might hurt their child. Something might happen to her, and he couldn't let it. It was his job: Now, more than ever, he had to protect her.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back.

He set her back on her feet, but she still wouldn't let go. He didn't mind.

"I love you," he whispered in her ear.

She pulled back and gazed at him, focused on his eyes. "I love you too."

He couldn't wait for a beautiful baby, one that would look just like her. _Why did I ever spend a night away from her? She's perfect in every way!_ He smiled and kissed her again.

_To Be Continued_


	9. Chapter 8

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairing, etc.

Part 9/21

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-Chapter 8-

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Atlantis

"So, both Carson and I have run all the tests that we could think of, and found nothing," Rodney explained. It was the summing up of a very long and somewhat unnecessary briefing.

"Nothing?!" John exclaimed. He was frustrated that he had just endured a boring lecture for _nothing_.

Rodney put something on the table in front of him. John didn't know what it was, since he'd stopped paying attention a half hour ago. "That's right. We thought we'd at least find a faint radio admission or some signal, but we didn't. Whatever's giving Ronon these dreams, or hallucinations, or whatever it is he's having – it isn't anything that we can detect, let alone stop."

Elizabeth leaned forward and put the fingertips of both hands together. "But we _do_ know for sure that the people who originally captured him _are_ still getting information from him?" she questioned.

"Yes," Carson spoke up, his first time to talk since Rodney cut him off two sentences into the presentation. "There's no other explanation for the dreams he's still having."

"Speaking of that, how's it comin' with the whole de-brain-washing thing?" John directed the question at Teyla, who had been quiet since she arrived. Come to think of it, she'd been quiet since yesterday afternoon.

She inhaled sharply, as if the question stung. "He seems to be – confident that this is the false world. He will not talk to me. He asked me if I had a message from the Ancestors."

John paused and touched his mouth, thinking. _Wow. Whatever they're doing to him, he must _really_ be happy. Obviously, there's the whole "married to Teyla" thing, but—_ He looked up and Elizabeth and then down at the table again. _Who does he think he is? Mister Matchmaker?_ He looked back up at Elizabeth.

She happened to look back. Their eyes met, and they both smiled.

_Then again—_ He came back to earth – Atlantis – with a thump. He really had to reset those idioms. The ones like: "what on earth," "back to earth," and "the best thing in the world." _Daydreaming again._ He cleared his throat and addressed Teyla again. "That doesn't sound much like him, thinking that you were supposed to send a message to him," he said quizzically.

"Perhaps, but—" she paused and blushed. "It is something I would have him ask if we were. . .married." She obviously wished she hadn't said anything.

John nodded once, somehow sharing her embarrassment. "Ah."

Elizabeth looked to her left and right: at Teyla, then John. She knew she needed to say something to break the awkward tension. She sighed. "I think the best thing for now is for you—" she looked at Teyla "—to keep trying to befriend him. Once he trusts you, he may be more willing to listen."

Teyla's expression told John that, had she come from Earth, she would have said "duh." She wasn't, however, so she nodded. "I believe that is wise."

"Does anyone else have anything to say?" She scanned the room as she waited for an answer. None was forthcoming.

John could sense that she felt the same thing that he did: an absence. He followed her gaze and saw Elizabeth, Carson, Rodney, and Teyla, but a valuable person was missing. How long until the sixth member could join them again? He missed his friend.

"No? Then I'll see you here the same time tomorrow." She looked at Rodney and Carson. "Keep looking," she told them. Then, not waiting around to hear Rodney's snarky comments, she immediately pushed away from the table and walked out.

John stood and ran to follow her out. "'Lizbeth! Wait up!" Honestly, he didn't know what he wanted to say. He just wanted to talk.

She turned sharply in her office to face his voice.

John ran into her office and jumped to seat himself on her desk. He sat there as she shot him an amused smile and sat next to him in her chair. "I was just wondering. . ." He stopped and fiddled with one of the Athosian figurines on her desk. "Do you think this is as crazy as I do?"

She raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?" She crossed her arms and put her elbows on her desk, her right touching John's thigh.

He took a mint out of the crystal dish on her desk, nearly falling off from the far stretch, and popped it in his mouth. "I don't know. It's just, how can they be getting the information from him? There isn't even a signal or anything. We disconnected him. I _saw_ Rodney do it."

"There is a lot of technology that we haven't even _dreamed_ of. We know the Ancients weren't the only technologically advanced race in this galaxy. Plus, there isn't a signal that we've _detected._" She leaned back in her chair and swiveled it left and right, left and right.

There was a pause, filled with nothing but them staring at each other. Of course, John was the one to break it. A gleam entered his eyes and he opened his mouth. "So, what do you think of us being. . .engaged." He widened his eyes at the thought.

She stopped swiveling and waited for his reaction, afraid to say the wrong thing.

John had worked with Elizabeth for a while now. Consequentially, he knew her. She was very good at hiding her emotions; it was something that made her a good diplomat. He could tell when she was happy, sad, embarrassed, or, in this case, when she was hiding something.

"I think it's a good way for the Quitari to put us both into his dreams," she said at last, diplomatically.

He nodded and hopped off the desk. "Sure, me too." Why was she lying? Why was _he_ lying? He didn't know why he felt so – _strongly_ about them being engaged. Something about it made him _happy_. "So, I'll see you—?" he asked from the doorway.

She looked up from her desk. "Um—" She typed something into her computer. "It looks like you don't have anything until tomorrow morning's meeting. Same time as today." She looked up at him, hiding something in her eyes.

He swung his arms for no reason. "Okay, then it is." He turned to leave, but stopped. "Unless—" He twisted back around just in time to see her erase a smile from her face and look up.

"Unless?" she asked.

He took a step forward. "Lunch? I'll pick you up."

She smiled again. "It's a da-d-deal." She cut herself off, afraid to say the wrong thing.

"A deal it is." He grinned. And the grin didn't leave his face until he picked her up at noon.

**Briefing room**

Teyla sat quietly and watched Elizabeth, John, and then Rodney leave. Then it was just her and Carson, and he was on his way out.

"Are you okay, love?" he asked as he passed her.

"I am fine. I was just – thinking," she half-lied.

He nodded, obviously understanding the lie. "Well – make sure to get some rest."

She nodded. "I will."

He still wasn't leaving. She sensed that he was waiting for her to say something else, but she had nothing to say. He just knocked on the table in front of her, smiled wanly, and walked out.

_What am I to do? My only task is to befriend Ronon, but he will not talk to me. Maybe I _should_ get some rest. He will talk when he is—_

"Hey," a warm, soft, familiar voice said from the doorway.

She snapped her head in that direction. "Ronon!" Her heart warmed immediately.

"Look, I'm sorry for the things I said." He took a small step forward, looking like a child apologizing to his mother.

She stood. "So you believe me?" she asked with obvious hope in her voice.

He took another small step forward. "No."

She lowered her head, feeling defeat rest heavily in her chest.

He took one more step forward, now as close as social rules allowed. "But," he told her in a friendly voice, "I'm willing to forget about it now. I still don't believe you, but I don't see a point in fighting you any more." It was obvious he'd thought about what to say for a while.

"I ask nothing more of you." _I wonder what made him change his mind?_ she thought to herself. "How did you find me?" She watched him sit on the table by where she was seated before.

"I don't know. It was like I knew this was where you'd be." Ronon's rich voice was so – warm. It had been so long since they'd last talked that just hearing it again made her feel so _right_.

_How can he not know? Why can he not understand that he knew I was here because this is his home? _She wanted to tell him, to explain why he knew, but she'd agreed to just be his friend. "How long have you been awake?" _What time _is_ it, anyway?_ She looked at her watch, reading 1013 hours. Still fairly early, but late for him to be up.

"Not long. Doc said I'm still recovering and I need to get a lot of sleep. I don't mind." He paused, shrugged, and smiled.

Teyla could tell that he wanted to say something, but she didn't know what. She just waited until he worked up the courage to say it or changed his mind. She waited, just looking into his eyes, trying to read what he was thinking.

Ronon's stomach growled. "I'm hungry. Do you want to try the 'eating together' thing again?"

Teyla smiled. _This is the Ronon that I know. _"Sounds good." _Even though I had breakfast a few hours ago. Maybe it will be an early lunch._

**Commissary**

Rodney was in the commissary for his between-breakfast-and-lunch meal when he heard familiar laughing. He smiled curiously and turned around. _Ronon and Teyla? Why would they be here? What's so funny? Are they laughing at me?_

He walked over and sat beside Teyla, still slightly afraid of Ronon. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing," Ronon said quickly before Teyla could answer.

_It _was_ about me. And John says I'm self-centered for thinking everything's about me. That shows him! I'm _right_! _That was when an obvious tension settled over the table.

It was obvious they were trying hard not to talk about the dreams, but they didn't know what else to say. _Maybe I should just leave so they can make fun of me again. No, that would be too obvious._

So he stayed. He stayed, and they all ate in silence. _Awkward_ silence.

_I wonder what they're thinking. I bet he hates me for coming over here. _He didn't care what Teyla thought, she had enough self-control to not turn him into a human doughnut. Ronon, on the other hand, Rodney wasn't so sure about.

It wasn't until he heard utensils jingling Rodney realized he'd avoided eye contact. He looked up from his food to see them leaving. _Thank goodness! _he nearly said out loud.

As he watched them walk away, he remembered how they used to be. Before they ever went to Quitari. He saw the way they glanced at each other. _Maybe they _weren't_ laughing at me after all._

**Halls, outside the commissary**

"What would you like to do next?" Teyla asked as they strolled down aimlessly down the halls.

"After McKay back there, I think I could beat something up. Wanna spar?" He turned down a hall without waiting for an answer: headed toward the gym.

Teyla smiled and stayed by his side, just like the old days. _How does he know where to go? How does he know that we spar together? Isn't this all supposed to be new to him? _She wanted to ask these things so badly, but knew her questions should wait. "Yes. That sounds very nice. However, I do need to change first."

"What? You can't beat me in that?" He scanned her sleeveless tank and black pants, what she normally wore around Atlantis.

She stared at him. _Is he joking, or asking me not to change?_

He chuckled. "I'm just joking. I'll go ahead and warm up, though," he informed her.

They arrived at the gym and separated. Ronon entered and Teyla walked on, in the direction of her quarters.

**Gym**

Teyla ducked, swerved, and struck; a move she did often while sparring Ronon. _He sure remembers _this_. It must be because he was once a Runner. Things like that never leave, _she thought while absorbing a blow to her shoulder.

Ronon struck, succeeded, and ducked; barely avoiding a hit to his ribs.

They had been sparring for nearly an hour, and they both were exhausted. Not that either was willing to admit it.

Teyla struck with her left rod, and blocked with her right forearm. Then she started all over: struck, blocked, struck, blocked, and hit his wrist; sent a rod flying.

She could he him swallow a lump in his throat and anger fill his eyes. He was going Satedan soldier on her butt!

He blocked a blow with his remaining rod in his right hand and grabbed her right rod with his free hand.

She wasn't expecting this, but reflexes kicked in. She moved her left hand over and around his and flipped him.

He went down hard, but with her rod in his hand.

She sat on top of him; was thrown off in a matter of seconds.

She quickly regained her ground, got to her feet and twirled the one rod that remained.

He jumped up, charged at her, and pinned her against the wall, rods crossed at her neck.

She didn't say anything; she was too busy trying to catch her breath. She watched his eyes. At first, they were filled with pure fury. He had gone berserk, acting solely on his animal instinct. After a moment of standing there like that, however, they changed.

She realized he was as out of breath as she was.

"Ahh – so I beat fake you too," he said after he released her.

She slowly walked over to her water bottle. "You what?" She flipped the top and took a long, much deserved drink.

"It's just that whenever I spar the real you, you always lose." He grabbed a towel off the rack and mopped his sweaty face.

"Oh." _If he still thinks that this is false, then why is he acting like he used to?_

She put the bottle back in her duffle, and realized Ronon was looking at it lustfully. He hadn't brought his own. "Would you like a drink?" she asked and held it out to him.

He was across the room in less than a second. "You don't mind?" he asked, making sure that she was serious about the offer.

She shook her head. "I do not." She took two more deep breaths. Now she could breathe at her normal, steady pace.

Ronon seized it as soon as she shook her head and finished it off in three long draughts. Upon finishing, he wiped his beard and sighed. "Thank you," he said genuinely.

She took the empty bottle and placed it on top of her bag. "You are welcome," she said formally.

He walked around her, toward the door. "I don't know about you, but I really need a shower."

"I agree. Contact me later if you have any questions or want to talk." _If he begins to understand, then he might want to know how the Quitari captured him. _She knew it was just wishful thinking.

"I will." He smiled.

She smiled back and watched him leave. _Ronon_. . . _I really miss you._

**Teyla's quarters**

After her shower, Teyla went directly to get a late lunch, but that was hours ago. Since then, she'd focused on calming her nerves.

Teyla finished her meditations and walked out onto the balcony. She had a lot to think about, but her mind wouldn't let her focus. She prayed the calm sea and red sunset would help settle her mind.

Her mind was settled, but her stomach wasn't. She'd barely been outside two minutes when she heard her stomach growl. She snapped her head over to look at the clock. _Ancestors! The commissary closed dinner down five minutes ago. At least they will still have the leftovers._

She ran into her room and rushed to put her shoes on, she was going to have to hurry.

She went to the door to her quarters and heard a well-known noise. Her radio frequency had just opened up. "Teyla, I'm hungry," Ronon's voice admitted.

"I will meet you there in three minutes." She opened her door.

"No, I'm hungry now." He said, propped up in her doorway.

She smiled. "We must run. They are replacing dinner with snacks for the night."

"Then we've _really_ gotta hurry!" He took off running.

He was so fast she couldn't keep up with him. He stopped, waited until she was even with him, and grabbed her hand. He pulled her along.

Ronon pushed her so hard one of her shoes fell off, but she didn't mind. She'd find it later. She started to laugh, because she hadn't run this fast since – well, ever. She felt like she was flying.

"See? Just in time!" Ronon grabbed some food out of the hands of a worker on their way to the kitchen.

It was a tray full of meat, and Teyla knew she had to find something more. All that was left was the salad serving bowl, but it was enough for her.

She met up with Ronon again, who'd gathered the plates and utensils. "Looks like a feast to me."

Teyla smiled at their table of meat and salad. "It does," she kidded. It reminded her of when she was a child and always pretended every meal was a feast. That everything was grander and better than ever before.

"Let's dig in." He grabbed a slice of roast beef and took a bite out of it.

Teyla picked up her a fork and dished salad onto her plate, then put cubed ham on top of it. After watching him for a minute more, she took her first bite. It really _was_ a feast.

**Quarters' hall**

"Hey! I've been looking for you guys! It's movie night!" John called to them from the other end of the hall.

"I had forgotten," Teyla admitted as she put the shoe she'd lost earlier on again. They both knew Ronon didn't need an excuse.

He jogged up to them. "You still up to it? Rodney's looking forward to it," he hinted, nearly begged.

"I am. What about you?" Ronon asked her.

"Sure," she said, eyes heavy.

They walked toward John's quarters.

"What's the movie?" Ronon asked as an afterthought.

"_A Dog's Breakfast,_" John said as he opened the door for his guests.

Teyla snagged a seat on the couch. "I have never heard you speak of it." She scooted over to make room for Ronon.

"Yeah, it's not that good," John whispered as he sat in his swivel chair.

Rodney, who was already there waiting for the others to arrive, jumped up. He nearly spilled the popcorn out of his lap. "It is too! It's a _great_ movie!"

John started it up. "Sure it is, sure it is," he tried to soothe his teammate.

A few minutes into it, Teyla started to feel really tired – more like _exhausted_. Her eyes got heavy, and she could no longer keep her head up. Subconsciously, she laid it on the closest thing to her: Ronon's shoulder.

He looked down at her and smiled.

She could feel his breath on the top of her head, but she was too tired to notice.

Ronon turned back and watched the movie. _As far as dreams go, this one isn't all that bad._

_To Be Continued_


	10. Chapter 9

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, etc.

Part 10/21 

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Chapter 9

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Sateda

Teyla was already out of bed by the time Ronon opened his eyes. He looked around the room and sleepily wondered _why_. He was always the first one up. "Teyla?" he called. He didn't get a response, but heard a faint noise coming from the dining room. _That sounds like – crying._

He immediately stood and ran to see what was wrong. His head throbbed, hurting him so much he could hardly stand it, but he didn't care. Teyla was more important.

Teyla sat at the kitchen table, legs folded up to her stomach on the chair. She appeared to be weeping into her knees.

"Love, what's wrong?" Ronon knelt down next to her and put a hand on her leg.

She sniffled and looked up at him with puffy red eyes. "Oh!" she said, almost embarrassed. "It was just a dream I had." She tried to regain her usual composure, but couldn't. She crumbled into tears again.

Ronon set a chair next to her, lifted her up, and sat down in the chair with her in his lap. _Is she just this emotional because of the child? _He remembered her being overly-emotional about everything during her last pregnancy, before. . . He quickly shut down that thought and wrapped his arms around her. He rested his head against hers and whispered softly into her ear: "Shhh. It's going to be okay. It was just a dream. It was just a dream." He said the same things over and over until she calmed.

After regaining her composure, she lifted her head to look at him. "But it was _not_ just a dream. I believe dreams happen for a reason."

"Then what happened in your dream?" he asked in a soft tone. He was afraid that a louder tone would shatter her restraint and she would cry again. He hated to see her cry.

"You and I were at the Carnival and a group of Ancestors entered. They asked you what you had to say for yourself, and you did not understand. They told you that you were responsible to achieve a great victory, but did nothing and failed. They told you your punishment would be death. Then – then—" She started to cry again.

Ronon tightened his grip. _My dreams get better, and hers only get worse. I'd rather it be the other way around. Wait. Is she thinking that my _dreams_ are what I was responsible for? That I was killed because I didn't understand them? She really _is _worrying about this too much! _He felt bad for her, because he was now actually starting to enjoy the dreams.

"It's all right. I'm fine. I'm here. Nothing's going to happen to me." He repeated over and over as she cried.

"You do not _know_ that, Ronon! How do you _know_ your dreams are not the Ancestors' way of trying to tell you something?" She looked up at him, eyes red and puffy.

He looked up at the ceiling and closed his eyes. _Ancestors! She is _not_ trying to start this up again! _"Love, I _promise_ you. No harm will come from the dreams."

"If no harm will come from them, why will you not tell me what is happening?" She sniffled, then quickly wiped her eyes.

_She won't rest until I tell her, will she?_ "Okay. I'll tell you." He looked out the window, trying to organize his thoughts while at the same time seeing how much time he had left. He still had at least an hour before work: good.

She wiped the last few tears from her eyes and looked into his. "Really?" she asked in a voice filled with wonder.

"What do you want to know?" _What would she care to know? Nothing interesting happened in them._

She adjusted in his lap and put her arms around his neck, suddenly in a better mood. "What happens? What are you doing?" she asked happily.

"I think it _is_ the City of the Ancestors. It's just me and you, but you're different. We aren't married there, we're just friends." He tightened his grip around her to comfort her just in case.

Her face brightened even more. Was this what people meant when they talk about pregnant women glowing? "What do you do?" she asked him sweetly. She leaned her head against his and listened intently.

"Well, at first, I was in the infirmary. But recently, we've just been spending time together. Eating, sparring, watching lame movies, things like that." He chuckled at the memory of the events that occurred in last night's dream. _McKay was really into that movie. It was _so_ stupid! Girl movie. Ironic. It was a love movie and the only girl there fell asleep. _The memory made him smile again. He almost liked the dreams now: almost, but not really. He still wished that they would go away.

Her smile vanished. "That is all?"

"Yeah, that's it," he assured her.

"Oh." Suddenly, she was sullen again. She paused, then asked another question. "What does the Ancestral City look like – in your dreams?"

"It's bright. On the ocean. I have a balcony, so that's really nice. Besides that—" He stopped talking without realizing he'd left off mid-sentence. He gently lifted Teyla and put her on her own seat.

Her head followed him as he walked into the kitchen, then came back with two steaming cups: coffee for him and tea for her. "How big is the world?" She wrapped her hands around the mug to absorb its warmth.

"The planet? I don't know. All I ever see is ocean. It must be _huge_. However, Atlantis is just a city in the middle of it." He took a big sip of his coffee, which was too strong for his wife. She'd tried it before and decided to stick with tea.

Shock and wonder filled her expression, and she paused with her cup inches away form her mouth. She lowered it slowly to the table before she sputtered out her next question. "The city _floats_?"

"Yeah. It's pretty cool. Are you okay now?" He watched her take a drink of tea and set her cup on the table again, very calmly.

Teyla got up from the table and went to the kitchen to find food. "Yes, I am fine now. I appreciate your sharing your dreams with me, but will you promise me that you will tell me everything else that occurs in them?" she called back.

Ronon moved to the doorway to watch her. The morning light streamed in the window and illuminated her silhouette. Her beautiful hair framed her face, and she smiled so warmly it made him smile back. He loved it when she was happy. She faced into the light, which warmed her delicate features even more.

"Of course. The only reason why I didn't tell you was because I didn't want to hurt you. Now I know that not telling you _is_ hurting you." He walked in and stood next to her. "And I would _never_ want to do anything to hurt you." He hugged her, cradling her head in his hand.

"Thank you." She snuggled into him, her tiny form fitting perfectly against his. Then he sighed abruptly. "It is getting late. I must get ready to leave." Her voice was muffled against his arm.

Ronon frowned. Something didn't seem right, but he didn't know what. _I'm probably just imagining things again. _"Okay," he sighed. He didn't want to let her go.

She gently pulled away from his embrace and slowly walked to the bedroom.

Ronon retrieved his cup of coffee and went outside. They'd kept a chair on the back porch since they moved in, but it had never been used until today. Although he had to be at work early, he still had time to watch the suns finish rising. It was as if they were racing each other across the sky. He didn't think about anything else but the beauty that he was witnessing. In fact, he didn't want to.

Everything was fine now. Teyla was no longer afraid of his dreams; the dreams were no longer causing him agony; and they were going to have a child. As for the headaches. . . Well, they were worse than ever, but there were short moments during the day when he forgot about them.

The western sun won the race, telling Ronon he had little time before he was expected at the reserve. He sighed and went back into the house, reluctant to let go of his early-morning calmness.

Ronon washed his mug and headed for the door. As he strapped his holster on, he realized he still had his cotton pants on. In the drama of the morning, he'd forgotten to change as soon as he got up. He ran to the bedroom, cursing all the way. Now he _knew_ he was going to be late.

"Where have you been?" Teyla asked him when he entered. She looked up from where she was bent over searching for a missing shoe.

He jolted, surprised by her voice. "I – uh – I was outside. Watching the sunrise. I thought you'd left," he admitted.

She found the shoe and put it on before walking over to him. "Without saying goodbye?" She put her wrists on his shoulders and wrapped her hands around his neck.

Ronon felt a smile tickle at his lips. "I don't know. You just seemed to be in a hurry." He spoke slowly and softly, hypnotized by her beauty.

Teyla tilted her head and spoke in a slow, nearly seductive tone. "I would never be in such a hurry to leave without a kiss."

Ronon smiled as she pulled his head down to her level and kissed him. "I believe it," he whispered.

Teyla withdrew. "I must go now. Do not forget to stop and see John – Elizabeth told me he is feeling alone." She paused in the doorway, waiting for an answer.

Ronon finished dressing as she talked and sat on the bed to pull his shoes on as he answered. "Okay. I think he can come back to work tomorrow, but I'll still make sure he's fine. Have fun at work. Tell the kids I said 'hi.' And – _be careful_." He looked pointedly at her stomach.

"I will be. Farewell, my husband. I love you," she said quickly as she turned to leave.

"I love you too," he called after her. "More than you know," he said to himself. Now he was ready to go.

He ran to work. Not because he was in a hurry, but because he needed to feel the wind on his face, the adrenaline pulsing through his veins. He was free. Free, and oh so happy.

**Streets of Sateda**

_Oh, Shep. Is he _ever_ going to beat me? Statistically, after all the matches we've been in, you'd think he would have won _once_. Maybe he'll get better after he starts back at work tomorrow._ Ronon chuckled at the thought and suddenly found he wanted to run again. He'd forgotten how _good_ it felt until this morning. However, he couldn't. His head hurt too much, and the streets were still crowded. He weaved through the crush, trying not to run into one of the many people surrounding him.

Ronon silently opened the door to his house and listened for the humming that warmed his heart. He didn't. At first, he didn't even hear _anything_. He tried to be as quiet as possible while he put his things where they belonged, just in case she was napping.

He walked to the kitchen with long, quiet strides. "Teyla?" _Is she not home yet? Why not? Is she okay? _Thoughts raced through his mind as he started to run when he did not hear a response to his soft calling of her name.

He stopped: at last, he heard something! But his gut tightened when he realized it was the same noise he'd awakened to. "What's wrong?" He slowed to jog and then stopped altogether in the doorway of their kitchenette.

Teyla was openly crying, tears falling into the sauce she was stirring. She looked up at him, but said nothing. She cried harder and turned back to the stove.

Ronon let out his breath in a rush. "Oh, Teyla." He lowered the heat from the fire and turned her into himself, holding her in his arms. He rested his head on hers and exhaled again. "Is this about the dreams? Love, I told you—"

"It is not." Her voice cracked as she spoke.

He squeezed her tighter, wishing he could calm the shudders ripping through her petite form. "What is it, then?"

She sniffled and shook her head, burrowing it further into his chest.

Ronon lowered his head so the side of his face touched hers. He kissed the clan tattoo on her neck and began to rub his hand soothingly up and down her back and across her shoulders. "You don't want to tell me?" he guessed in a whisper that stirred the hair by her ear.

Teyla shook her head again. His shirt was getting wetter by the second, but he had yet to notice.

Ronon took a deep, calming breath, trying not to panic. "Are you hurt?"

She shook her head and whimpered softly.

"Is something wrong with the—" He didn't want to say it, didn't want to put those thoughts in her head. He subconsciously gulped. "—the child?"

Her whimpers once more dissolved into earnest tears. She burrowed her face further into his chest, as if in an attempt to hide from the world.

"What happened?" He lifted his head and tried very hard not to yell the question.

Teyla turned her head so her cheek was placed against his chest. "Nothing has happened. The child is fine. I just – I fear that. . ." She couldn't continue.

Ronon shifted one hand to lay it on her tearstained cheek. "Doc said that probably won't happen again. The child is going to be fine." He stroked her hair.

Teyla turned her face, resting the other side of her face up against him. "Neither of you can be certain. I do not know if I could – I do not know what I would do if – if I lost another child." She was in tears again before she finished.

Ronon held her close, as he felt her pain, her emotions. He felt tears of his own fill his eyes; fear flood his stomach. _Ancestors, she's right. Please, no. Please don't let this happen again. . ._

He didn't know what to say. He knew she was right. They had no way of knowing the same thing wasn't going to happen again. However, he _did_ know that _if_ it went badly, Teyla would be more emotional about it than him. She, after all, was the one carrying that small, defenseless life inside her. He, as much as he hated it, was an outside observer.

Suddenly, he was desperately afraid for her.

Ronon swallowed hard and said the only thing that he could think of in a voice hoarse with unshed tears of his own. "Whatever happens, I'll be here. I promise you, Teyla, I will _never_ let go of you."

Teyla stopped crying and wiped her eyes. "I know, Ronon. That does bring me a great deal of comfort. I just. . . When I lost the last child, it—" she stopped when her voice cracked again.

"Shh, my love. I'm here. Worrying isn't going to help anything. Just – it's going to be all right. Somehow." He rested his chin on top of her golden head as she wrapped her arms around his waist.

Whatever happened, they would be okay. If something went wrong, they would be heartbroken, but they would survive. How? Because they had each other. Their love would keep them strong.

_To Be Continued_


	11. Chapter 10

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, etc.

Part 11/21

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Chapter 10

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Atlantis

Ronon awoke to the waves crashing against the city's pier below his quarters. The sound was so soothing he stayed in bed a few extra minutes just to listen. Eventually, however, he forced himself to get up.

He looked at the clock, which read 0900. _Looks like I'm not quite over my need to sleep in. I think. _He didn't know for sure. He was used to Satedan time, which had 33 hours per day. _Maybe it's just the one sun that makes the day shorter. Can humans survive on a planet with only one sun? I guess it doesn't matter. I'll only ever know life on Sateda._

_Now then—_ He looked around the room, trying to decide what to do with his day – no, dream. Sometimes he got so caught up in the fantasy of another life that he forgot it was fake.

Ronon wanted to spend more time with just Teyla. His last dream had been fun, but Shep and McKay were always acting strange around him. Like they were afraid to say the wrong thing. Teyla, however. . . She seemed content with just being his friend. _Oh! That meeting! Didn't I overhear Weir say they were meeting again today? When was that? _He looked back at his clock. "Now. Hmm. . .I'll just stall until Teyla's done. Wait. Am I talking to myself _out loud_ now? Oh well, my dream." He figured if he was crazy enough to dream so elaborately of another place, he'd might as well talk to himself aloud.

**Conference room (briefing room) **

"This meeting should be short, but I still wanted you all here so you could hear everything now. Rodney, have you found anything?" Elizabeth asked. She'd waited to start the meeting until everyone arrived, as soon as everyone was seated. With such a delicate matter at hand, they could waste no time.

"Have I found a signal that doesn't exist? Hmm, let me see. . . _No_, not yet." Rodney snarked.

John leaned forward and gave his teammate a warning look. He could handle Rodney copping an attitude toward him, but Elizabeth was a whole other story.

The look worked. McKay slinked back into his chair, snarky expression exchanged for a humble and apologetic one.

Elizabeth shot a _back off_ glance in John's direction, and readdressed Rodney. "I understand you believe nothing is there, but I would appreciate it if you keep looking."

_Oh, you _know _'Lizabeth's ticked when she talks so formally, _John thought. However, although he knew that she could very easily punch something, he liked her more at this moment then he had ever before. Not that he "_like_ liked" her. Maybe?

Rodney heaved a heavy sigh. "I guess." He slumped in his swivel chair, showing his hatred toward his assignment. "But I won't find anything," he mumbled.

John opened his mouth, but was cut off before anything came out.

"Teyla, how's Ronon?" Elizabeth interrupted. Her expression made it clear she was feeling like a cross between a mother and a referee.

Teyla raised her eyebrows and leaned forward. "He is better. He is still determined that the other life is his, but he is more open to a friendship."

"We had movie night last night," John added.

"That's good news. Keep it up, and pray he isn't giving away vital information," she told them all.

"Why isn't the Doc here?" John asked.

Elizabeth turned her chair to look at him. "I didn't think it necessary since he's already cleared Ronon. Do you have any further questions for him?" she wondered.

He inhaled sharply. "Oh, no. I was just askin.'"

"Does anyone else have any questions?" She looked around the room. "No? Then I'll see you all here tomorrow. Same time, same place."

**Ronon's quarters**

_It's _gotta_ be over by now! _Ronon thought to himself, bored. He'd been spinning around and around in a chair so long he'd lost track of time.

"I am finished with the meeting. Are you ready for breakfast?" Teyla's voice in his headset startled him.

He jumped out of the chair and smiled. "How'd you know I was up?"

"Lucky guess," she told him laughingly. "Plus, you always were one to wake early."

Ronon opened his door and started down the hall. "Ahh. I'm starved. Where are you?"

"I am on my way to meet you at your quarters." The tone in her voice told Ronon that she was smiling.

"No time. Too hungry. I'll meet you in the cafeteria." He began to run.

She paused. "I am close. Would you like me to get you a tray?"

Ronon slowed his run to a jog and turned off his radio. "No, thanks, I'll get it myself," he said from her left.

"How did you—?" She pointed down the hall from which he came, wonder in her eyes.

Ronon shrugged and grinned. "I'm fast."

**Halls of Atlantis**

Ronon and Teyla finished a delightful breakfast and then wandered aimlessly through the halls of the grand city. They had nothing else important to do.

"Aren't you going to ask me?" Ronon asked finally, breaking the silence.

Teyla stiffened. "Ask you what?" _The only thing I have yet to ask about is Sateda._

Ronon held his hands behind his back and looked down at her. "I don't know. About Sateda." He paused awkwardly and looked away. "I mean – I don't get it, but you seem to want to know. But it's like you're afraid to ask."

Teyla looked away and swallowed hard."I will admit I do wonder what it is about the dreams that – _attracts_ you so much." She crossed her arms, just to distract herself, as they continued to walk.

"I like it so much because it's my _life,_" he said unthinkingly.

Teyla lowered her head to hide a wince. _Why would I _not_ be afraid to ask when he acts like this? Why did he even bring it up if he was going to get so mad?_

Ronon obviously sensed her unease, because he immediately relaxed his body language and stopped in the hallway."I'm sorry." He briefly touched her arm, and his eyes softened. "Please let me start over?"

She nodded for him to continue, but a trace of hurt lingered in her eyes. _Patience. I must give him patience. _Feeling uncomfortable standing in the hall, she started walking again.

"Sateda. Where do I start?" He sighed heavily and looked up at the ceiling as they continued to meander.

It took much effort for her not to look up as well. In all the time she'd been here, she hadn't once noticed what was above her head. She didn't look now, however, because she was afraid that he may think she was mocking him.

Eventually, he looked straight ahead of him and smiled slightly. "Sateda isn't like here." His words started slow, but sped up as he continued. "There're two suns, and they shine brighter. But here, it's warmer. There, I live in the capital, so it's always crowded, but the villages outside are rather small."

_It sounds very similar to what Sateda – the real one – used to be. _"And your family? Have you always lived in the city?"

"Yeah. My father was the leader of his infantry squadron; and my mother – she died when I was very young. I can't really remember her very well." Sadness entered his warm green eyes, and Teyla felt a pang of anguish stab her heart as well.

_He's never told me that. He was always so closed before this. Maybe this is why. So much pain in his youth. . . _"I am sorry. Did your father raise you on his own?" she asked in a warm voice. She hoped to ease the sadness and pain in his eyes with her tone.

He nodded. "Uh-huh. The only thing my dad knew was fighting, so that's what he taught me. He was the one that taught me to fight like I do. Although he didn't have many friends, he still knew what was right and wrong. So did I. My first fight was my first battle. As soon as I was old enough to talk, I decided to become as great a warrior as my father." The love that filled his eyes told her how much appreciation he had for his father. It warmed her soul to know he cared so much for a parent.

Teyla smiled. Though some would think his story was a sad one, she saw it as one of achievement and pride. "And did you achieve this goal?" she asked him.

"I don't know, really. People say I'm better than he ever was, but they didn't know him like I did. They didn't know how strong he _really_ was." He talked as if he was in his own world.

She swallowed a sudden lump in her throat. "_Was_?"

Ronon took a few steps before answering. "Yeah. He died when I was twenty: the day after I was appointed leader of my squadron. I guess. . . I guess that's the only reason he held on for as long as he did. He really wasn't the same after my mother died. They were – really in love." He darted a quick glance in her direction, but slid his eyes away just as quickly. A flash of something indefinable in them made her swallow hard.

_Wow. This conversation became so serious in such a short amount of time!_ She hesitated and rubbed her bare arms, suddenly a little cold. _I wonder if he is like his father. When he speaks of Melena, I hear so much love in his tone. Did he learn to love his wife from his father's love for his mother? _It was a question she would probably never ask him. Instead, she touched his arm lightly and said softly: "I am sure he would be very proud of you."

Ronon looked down at her hand on his arm and smiled brightly. It warmed her heart and soul to see that smile again. She'd begun to wonder if she ever would.

"He sure was happy when I found you." The second the words left his mouth, Teyla saw caution fill his eyes. She knew he wished he could take them back.

Ronon silently stepped away from her gentle touch and continued down the hall.

Silence filled the next minute as they walked in peace, side-by-side. Then, Teyla felt a breeze across her face. She looked to her right and saw a balcony. She glanced at Ronon, looking for approval.

He wordlessly turned and walked outside.

Teyla followed just as silently and leaned on the railing next to him, close but not touching. They stood there for a long time, watching the restless ocean far below. The salty breeze blew mist up from the water, moistening their faces. Teyla turned into the wind, allowing her hair freedom to blow back away from her eyes. When she turned back to Ronon, he was staring at her in a strange way: a way he'd never looked at her before, but she knew that look. It was warm admiration.

Teyla looked away, immediately erasing it from her memory. _He is just confused. He sees me as his wife. He is merely having difficulty separating me from her. _She looked back at him and the look disappeared. _I must say something. _"So. . .we are married? In Sateda?" she asked slowly.

"Yes. Four years now." He nodded and that almost overwhelming love reentered those captivating green eyes.

Teyla stiffened, forcing herself to look away from those hypnotic eyes, back to the ocean. If she looked at him, she might forget how to speak. "_Four years?_" Her voice shook, and she cursed herself silently. She peeked to see if he'd noticed.

A question entered his eyes, showing that he wondered why the fact bothered her. "Yes."

Panic welled into her throat. This was too personal: for her, or him, she didn't know. But she knew she was treading on dangerous ground and needed to change the subject, quickly. _I cannot talk about this now, but what else is there to be said? _The shock lifted, and a thousand questions rushed at her all at once. "I know Elizabeth and John are also there. Is there anyone else?"

Ronon gazed out into the ocean, deep in thought. Teyla assumed he could read the emotions on her face. He always had been good at that. "Well, doc's the same, but he isn't so—" He drew the last word out, thinking of what should follow.

She remembered her first thoughts when she met Carson_. _"Scottish?" she offered.

"No, _caring_. Beckett here is so much – nicer." He turned to lean sideways against the railing, full attention on Teyla now. "McKay's there, but I've haven't met him. He looks too _pompous_ in the news."

_Rodney is in the news? Why would Ronon not socialize with him, at least a little? _She remembered their relationship in real life. _Rodney is in the news?_

"He's a scientific hero." Ronon rolled his eyes in response to her questioning glance.

_Who else from Atlantis could be on Sateda?_ "What about Major Lorne?"

"Lorne's here? Hmm." He thought to himself silently for a moment. Then,"Yeah, he's the leader of another squadron on Sateda. I don't get to talk to him much, but we sure have killed a lot of Wraith together." She could see the emotions his memories brought to him through his expressions: a smile, a frown, a half-laugh. She wondered what dream he was reliving with each.

The salty breeze stirred again, but not in the same way it usually did. Since it was the middle of the stormy season, the wind came in sudden gusts. Teyla had been turned to put her back against the rail, but the gust knocked her off balance. She stumbled forward and started to catch herself. However, she didn't react soon enough. Before she had regained her balance on her own, she was in Ronon's arms.

"Thank you," she told him. She awkwardly reached up to push her loose hair off her face.

Ronon smiled and quickly put her back on her feet. "No problem," he said smugly.

Their eyes locked.

"_Teyla, I need to talk to you,_" Elizabeth said over the radio.

_Crap,_ they both thought simultaneously.

_To Be Continued_


	12. Chapter 11

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, etc.

Part 12/21

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-Chapter 11-

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Sateda

Ronon woke to bright morning sunlight streaming from the window and into his eyes. Squinting, he reached for Teyla, assuring himself that she was there. He prayed today wouldn't be like the previous day. He always wanted her to be happy.

Teyla sighed and snuggled into him, placing her head on his chest and her arm over his waist.

Ronon smiled and kissed her forehead. "Good morning, my love."

He felt her warm breath as soft lips gently placed a kiss on his neck. "Good morning. Did you sleep well?" she spoke with a muffled voice.

He wrapped his arm around her. "Yes, you?" His voice was quiet and loving; his embrace tight.

"Very well. Did you have another dream?" Her tone dared him to object sharing.

He now understood how she felt, so he didn't mind telling her. "Yeah, I did."

Teyla lifted her head and looked at him, silently urging him to continue.

"I spent most of the time with you. We walked around and talked for an hour or so," he started.

Her eyebrows furrowed as she sat up. He could tell she was thinking deeply. Not knowing what else to do, he continued. "We talked until Elizabeth called you to a meeting. After that, I was on my own until supper." He held her hand subconsciously.

"Why did you not go to the meeting?" Teyla asked with a certain frustration.

Ronon shrugged. "I wasn't invited. What? Do you think it means something?"

She tilted her head as if afraid she'd say something offensive. "I believe it is possible. Perhaps the dreams are a way for you to start over with our relationship, but it could still be the Ancestors telling you something. I think it would be wise to attend the next meeting," she suggested.

"I already asked everyone, and they keep telling me—" He didn't want to tell her that they thought _their_ world was the right one. For some reason, unknown to him, he didn't want her to know. "—They keep telling me they don't have a message," he explained.

Teyla sat across the bed from him, thinking. He didn't know for sure what she was thinking about, but he figured it was some sort of solution. _She's so amazing. Always worrying about others' problems, no matter what's going on in her life. _His gaze drifted down to her stomach, and he smiled.

"I think it is a test. The Ancestors are smart. They would never give important information to a person they found unworthy. They are testing your patience." Obviously she was finished, then, because she got out of bed and started readying herself for the day.

Ronon shook his head. _It makes sense. I guess it's worth a shot. _He got out of bed and wrapped his arms around her. "Thank you. You're really great, you know that?"

Teyla set her choice of clothes on the dresser and turned to hug him back. "So are you. Are you going to heed my advice?"

Ronon pulled away from her and looked down into her eyes: her deep, beautiful, penetrating eyes. "Of course I am. You're the smartest person I know. I'd be dumb _not_ to listen to you."

She chuckled. "I love you, Ronon Dex."

He leaned in and kissed her. For a moment he forgot about being gentle; forgot about their baby. All he could remember was his love for her. However, a few seconds later, he did remember the child and quickly let her go. "Are you okay?"

Teyla smiled and pulled herself back up to him, kissing him more intensely as if to prove a point. She pulled away smiling. "I am _fine_."

He leaned in again, but stopped himself. He mentally cursed his work, for he knew he needed to get ready. She didn't seem to notice, her attention was on re-gathering her things and going to the bathroom to get dressed.

_Tonight. I'll come home as soon as possible and we'll have time to be together. Tonight. _It hurt him to think of being away from her for nearly nine hours.

He walked her to work and kissed her softly when they reached the door. "I'll see you tonight," he told her softly.

"Hurry home," she responded playfully.

Ronon let go of hr waist and took a step back. "Already plannin' on it," he said before turning and running in the direction of the reserve. _I am _so_ going to be late!_

**Reserve**

"Look who's back!" Ronon said as he dumped his duffle down next to where Shep sat.

John looked up from the bench and smiled. "Yeah. It felt like a good idea until I got here. I already feel tired."

Ronon shook his head and laughed. "That's 'cause you're so out of shape. The walk must've wiped you out," he said sarcastically.

"Ha ha ha. Let's just get this over with." John pulled his gun out of his bag and walked into the firing range.

Ronon surveyed the field. A chill went down his spine: Something wasn't right, he could feel it. He just didn't know what it was.

**Dex home**

Teyla was busy humming and cooking as she fluttered about the kitchen when she heard the door open. "Ronon! You're home! Supper is almost ready. I used a recipe very old in my family, and I—" She stopped when Ronon didn't respond, sensing that something was wrong. _Very_ wrong.

Subconsciously, she put a hand on her barely-larger stomach as she walked toward the sitting room. Her head titled to the side as she listened intently for her husband to respond. "Ronon? Is that you?" she called softly. When there was no forthcoming response, she grabbed a Bantos rod out of its holder and proceeded.

She froze.

There he stood. Ronon was in the doorway to the house, not moving. She looked down at his gun, tossed carelessly on the floor, and knew something was horribly wrong. "Ronon? What happened?" Suddenly she was deeply afraid.

He didn't respond. _Oh Ancestors, what has happened to him? Should I call a doctor?_

Something happened in that moment: perfect clarity struck her. It was the same way she felt when sparring. She could taste the air filled with dust; smell everything in the room; hear the fire cooking the meal; and feel Ronon's tension. All her senses were overwhelming her: something was very, very wrong.

Teyla took a step closer to her husband and dropped the rod. "Ronon? What is _wrong_?" she cried, stifling tears. _Did someone die? Kell? Shep? Elizabeth?_

His head snapped up. He looked at her, sending chills down her spine. His eyes were filled with confusion, apprehension, exhaustion, but, most of all, fear. Pure, intense, agonizing fear. Her stomach twisted, and her heart quickened. She could hear her pulse throbbing in her ears.

Ronon's gaze turned down to her stomach. _Is it something concerning the child? How would he know before me? Did he break the law? _She realized she wasn't breathing, but couldn't remember how.

One more step forward, and she was able to put a hand on the side of his face. She gently forced him to look at her. "Tell me what is going on," she demanded.

"Diut, the man from Teum, visited the reserve today." Ronon spoke in a flat, dead voice. "He – his planet was culled. There were only 200 survivors," he told her in slow, faltering breaths.

_That is awful! How can they just do that? That was a vast and well-populated world. _Teyla cursed the Wraith inwardly for their evil, uncaring deeds. She paused in her thoughts then as something occurred to her. _Wait. Why is this so frightening, that it would make _him_ act like _this_? I have never seen him like this before._

Obviously, he understood. He grabbed her shoulders as if to steady her. "His planet is the third of the WCRS." He explained this to her in almost a whisper.

She stopped to calculate the consequences of that.

The Wraith Culling Relay System had been familiar to her from childhood. It had been established many years ago as a way for one planet to warn others to the Wraith. This all relied on the fact that the culling patterns were predictable. Once a planet was culled, survivors would contact the others in the System, so they could prepare. Unfortunately, most of the time, there weren't enough survivors to warn many planets ahead of time. The system was helpful when it worked, but that was seldom. This made it an even greater blessing to have the warning now.

Teyla swallowed the enormous lump in her throat and managed to speak. "Ronon, we are—"

"Fifth, I know. They'll be here in a week."

**Atlantis**

The longer the dreams went on, the more Ronon began to appreciate them. They were his escape when the real world became too much to handle. Could that be the reason for them?

After a few minutes of considering possibilities, he jolted out of bed. _Ancestors! What time is it? I was supposed to go to the meeting!_

The clock on the wall told him that the meeting had already started five minutes ago. _I have to go. I don't care if I'm interrupting. I _need_ to be there._

He dressed quickly and grabbed his radio. The process had only taken two minutes. _Seven minutes gone, that's not too bad._

"Teyla!" he hailed over the radio.

There was a brief pause before she responded in a low voice. "I cannot talk now, Ronon. I am in a meeting."

Ronon walked into the halls. _I should be as close as possible in case she says 'yes.'_ "I know. That's what I wanted to talk about. I was just wondering – could I be there?"

He could tell by her tone when he responded that she was nervous. "I do not know. Hold on while I ask."

"Okay. Thank you, Teyla," he added right before she got off the frequency.

**Conference room**

"He wishes to join us." Teyla addressed the people that had been silent since her interruption.

"Why? This meeting is _about_ him," Rodney instantly replied.

John was the next to speak, but his tone was moderated. "I don't get it either. Why does he care?"

Teyla appreciated their questions, but addressed Elizabeth. "I believe he is trying to remember things. We do not have to risk him telling the others because we are not talking about secrets important to our security. It is up to you, but I believe it may be good for him," she told the leader, the only one who could make the call.

"I don't think so, Teyla. It's too soon, and we're almost done here. Tell him he can join us tomorrow." Elizabeth spoke slowly and softly, as if she was afraid the wrong tone would upset Teyla.

She nodded. "I understand." But her tone disagreed.

"Ronon," she said over the radio again.

She heard Ronon slow to a jog on the other end of the radio. "Yeah, Teyla?"

"We believe it is best if you did not come. However, you are invited to come tomorrow. We are almost finished here now. I will meet you for breakfast in ten minutes," she told him.

"We," John interrupted.

"We will all meet you for breakfast," she clarified.

"Okay, I'll be in the cafeteria waiting," he replied in an annoyed tone.

"Good," she finished before turning her radio off. _This is going to be awkward._

**Cafeteria**

Teyla was wrong in her prediction. The meal wasn't awkward at all: it was boring. Rodney talked the whole time.

John sat watching Rodney walk off in response to a call. He tried to remember what the scientist had been talking about, but he couldn't. The second "Quantum Physics" came out of McKay's mouth, John had turned all of his attention to his tray.

_I've really gotta do better about that. _He thought to himself, feeling guilty for never paying attention. Then he remembered all of the times that Rodney had quoted jargon meant to impress him. _Nah, he deserves it._

John looked around the table. It was just him, Elizabeth, Ronon, and Teyla now. And silence. _I've gotta do something. _"Hey, Ronon. It's been awhile since we hung out. Do you wanna do something?" _Okay, that sounded weird._

Ronon stared at him for a moment, eyes dark and emotionless. "Like what?"

John readjusted his position in his chair, subconsciously shifting toward Elizabeth on his left. Maybe she'd back him up. "Oh, I don't know. Driving range, shooting range. I hear that Area 51 just sent over a new gun. I was hoping to check it out today, and I thought you might want to join me."

Ronon looked to Teyla.

"I think you should go," she told him.

John saw a flicker of disappointment in the Satedan's eyes. "Sure," he said as if giving in.

"Good, then. We'll go as soon as you're finished." John pushed his tray into the center of the table to wait.

Ronon grabbed both his tray and Teyla's, which was empty. "I'm ready now."

"Oh-kay." _Is he going to be like this all day? Why is he mad? Wait –- is he mad that I'm taking him away from _Teyla_? _He looked up at Ronon, who was saying goodbye to Teyla with definite disappointment. _Oh yeah. Oh well, he needs to get out anyway._ "Let's go, buddy."

**Nine hours later: Atlantis**

"—and then we demonstrated the weapon he'd been talking about to some Marines." Ronon finished his rundown of the day and took another bite of his supper.

It truly had been chance that brought both him and Teyla to the same place at the same time for supper. Teyla had just finished helping Elizabeth and realized how hungry she was. She thought she would have to eat alone, but was pleasantly surprised to see Ronon getting his tray when she arrived. Happy at the turn of events, she joined him. Since they'd sat down, Ronon had been recounting the day's events at her request.

"What did you talk about throughout the day?" she asked while cutting her roast beef.

Ronon rolled his eyes. "Weapons. Different kinds of weapons, who makes weapons, the history of weapons, what kinds of weapons are best, and a lot of other weapon-ish things. I've never been tired of weapons before today. What did you do all day?" He realized she hadn't talked since they sat down.

Teyla put her fork down and placed her hands in her lap, finished with her meal. "I am currently off duty, so I spent my day assisting Elizabeth. It was – enjoyable. Elizabeth and I get along well, but even at that it was a lot of work. Rodney shut the power off to different sections of the city inaccessible by transporter, and we were required to soothe the people were at work in those sections when the power suddenly and inexplicably shut off." She let out her breath in a long, tired sigh. "It was – very trying to my patience."

Ronon took the last bite of his meat, leaving his vegetables nearly untouched. "If you're too tired to do anything, can I walk you to your quarters?" he asked almost shyly.

She smiled and stood. "That would be nice."

Ronon stood and carried her tray over to the bin for her. "Okay then. Let's go."

They had a delightful time on the way to her quarters, but the second her door closed behind her, Ronon's stomach clenched.

All day, he'd forgotten what was _really_ going on, on Sateda; what he would soon wake up to. He remembered the night before, that the Wraith were on their way. He couldn't go to bed yet, because he couldn't wake up on Sateda to face that.

So he spent most of the night running the halls of Atlantis until he was too tired to stand.

Ronon at last fell into his bed to dream, but instead he woke up to his nightmare.

_To Be Continued_


	13. Chapter 12

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warings, etc.

Part 13/21

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Chapter 12

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Sateda

Through the panicked crowd he spotted her, a little girl in her arms as she helped the other orphanage volunteers herd the children toward the closest shelter and relative safety. She looked tired, worried, scared.

"Teyla!" he called. She couldn't hear him; she was too far away and there was too much noise.

Another of the workers called something to her, and he saw undeniable terror flash through her eyes. She set the little girl down as she spun around to face back the way she'd come, her gaze landing on something just beyond Ronon's line of sight.

_Oh no._ He knew, somehow, that the Wraith had finally breached their parameter and invaded the heart of the city. _Ancestors, no!_

The fight they'd had returned to his mind: she was getting her wish. She refused to leave with the others and now she was going to fight for their failing world and what remained of their once-proud people.

"Teyla!" he cried again. He knew how well she could fight, but against the Wraith's energy weapons she was virtually powerless.

Finally some people began to notice the soldier trying to push his way through them. They began to scatter, clearing a way for him through the crush. He mumbled vague words of thanks as he ran, desperate to get there in time, knowing still he wouldn't.

Teyla stood between the Wraith drone and the fleeing children and workers, her stance clearly defensive. She stood weaponless, small hands curled into fists at her sides, eyes defiant. Her body language shouted one clear message: You must get through me to have them.

She was giving the people from the orphanage enough time to escape to the shelter. She was willing to sacrifice her own life for the others' safety.

The faceless drone didn't seem at all affected by her courage. He simply stared at her for a long moment, then lifted his weapon and prepared to answer her challenge.

"Teyla, _no_!" Ronon finally broke free from the crowd, weapon already raised and aimed at the Wraith. He fired as he dove for his wife, desperate to protect her.

Teyla gasped softly as he literally ran into her, arms curling around her slender frame to protect her as they fell to the ground. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Wraith fall face-first to the ground a few feet away. Miraculously, Ronon had managed to shoot it.

"Teyla? Teyla!" he said frantically as he unconsciously scanned the area for further threat. There appeared to be none.

She moaned. "Hurts," she said, so breathily he could barely understand her. "Please. . ."

_Oh no._ Ronon pulled away from her, getting to his knees so he could see where she'd been hurt.

"Ancestors!" It was a plea, a prayer.

Blood stained her white blouse crimson around the wound in her lower chest, a scant few inches below her heart and instant death. Looking at his arms, he could see they were wet and sticky with her life-force. He'd been a second too late to save her.

She stared at him with detached recognition. "Ronon – the children?"

He managed to tear his gaze from her long enough to look over his shoulder. The orphans and their escorts had disappeared. "Safe now." For how long, none of them knew.

A relieved smile curled her lips a little. "Good." She paused, coughed. Blood trickled from her mouth.

_It's her lung. She's going to die._ He stroked her face. "I love you!" he cried in anguish.

"I – love you – too," she gasped. She took a deep breath, and then her eyes closed.

There was nothing he could do. She – and their baby – were dead. "_NO_!" he screamed in the middle of the crowd.

* * *

Ronon jolted out of bed with the same yell.

_Just a dream, just a dream. But it was _so_ real! _Ronon looked down at his hand to check for blood. Finding none, he looked around the room, still in shock. He paused, starting to hear something from beside him.

It was a soft, scared, yelling feminine voice. "Ronon?!" Teyla must have been talking to him for over a minute before he heard her.

He immediately turned and held her firmly in his grasp. He wouldn't let her go. "You have to go! You must leave with the children!" He wouldn't take "no" for an answer.

Teyla knew what he meant. She wrapped her arms around him and clung tightly, desperately. "Ronon, I am _not_ leaving. I _must_ stay. I must insure the safety of all the children. Unless you can get all the orphans on the 'leave' list, I will not abandon them."

"I can't let you stay, Teyla! What about our child?" he asked with tears in his eyes.

Teyla pushed away from him, her certainty glowing in her dark eyes. "What about all of the children I would be leaving?" Now they were both crying.

"What about _me_?" he asked softly.

Teyla stroked his face with shaky hands. "You are staying. So am I. We are both warriors. We can defeat them _together_," she begged.

"I _can't_," he repeated passionately.

Teyla leaned forward and rested her head on his shoulder. "It is not your decision, Ronon. I love, you, but this decision. . . Ultimately, it is mine."

Ronon thought for a minute."What if I can get all the orphans on a list? Will you go then?"

"Of course. But – you have no control of the lists." Hope filled her eyes despite herself.

"Maybe I do," he said in a distant voice. He was planning something. _She _is_ going to leave, if I have to capture her and force her through that Ring. I won't let her stay. I can't let her die._

He looked out the window. Again, he'd woken up at the same time. He had just under a half hour to be at the reserve. He had to be there early to make his plans.

"I've got to go. I love you, so much," he said into her ear as he held her close for another precious few moments.

"I love you too. Goodbye." She sat on the bed, hands folded in her lap, watching him leave with sad brown eyes.

**Streets of Sateda**

Ronon ran, head pounding with every step, knowing that he had no time and deciding he didn't care. He was needed now more than ever at the reserve, but he just didn't care anymore. The only thing he cared about was Teyla's safety. Hers and the baby's.

As he ran, he thought about what to say, how to address the one person from whom he had a chance in getting the help he needed.

Ronon arrived at his destination with ten minutes left before he needed to be at the reserve. He walked in and quickly scanned the room. _There she is. _"Elizabeth!" he called to her.

She immediately walked over. "Ronon! Hello. Is there anything I can do for you?" she asked, stepping away from her assistant.

He fixed his shirt straight, feeling too unkempt to be in such a beautiful building. "Yes. I noticed that the 'leave' lists have a – _problem,_" he said hesitantly.

Elizabeth looked down at the papers in her hands, which turned out to be the very lists. "I don't see anything. To what are you referring?" she asked, still scanning the lists for errors.

"Um – I understand our allies can only hold a certain number of people—" Something about this woman made him very uncomfortable, but he never knew why.

"Yes, and it's a very small number, so we can only send children, elders, and a few women," she helped him along.

Ronon raised his hands. "That's the problem! You just said that you send children first, but the orphanage is the last on the list. Only half of the orphans end up going." Finding courage, he pleaded his case. Not for himself, but for the one he loved.

She lowered her papers and looked up at him. "Did Teyla put you up to this?"

Ronon knew it. He knew his personal feelings would interfere with accomplishing his goal. "No. She told me she was staying, but I don't want her to! I can't let her," he said emotionally.

"And why not? She's just like any other woman. If she wants to stay—"

Ronon didn't take her professional tone personally: he knew that she'd probably had a lot of visitors trying to get on the list. His head was throbbing, hurting worse than it ever had before.

_She didn't tell Elizabeth she's pregnant? Why not? I have to tell her! Will Teyla be mad at me for ruining the secret? It doesn't matter. Only her and our baby's safety matters. _"She didn't tell you? She's _pregnant_." He paused, waiting for the reaction to kick in. "And even if she wasn't, how do you justify not valuing orphaned children more than those that you let leave?" Passion filled his eyes. He was going to win this. He had to.

"I didn't know she was pregnant. Tell her I said 'congratulations.'" She paused. "That being said, I appreciate your care in this matter, and I do _not_ value the children with parents more. It is just – they pay money. I know it sounds awful, but Sateda is a very poor nation. However, it still isn't right. Now that this has been brought to my attention, I'll review it with the Board of Elders. I think they may be willing to give their places, at least." She wrote something on her paper and handed it to her assistant.

Joy filled Ronon's eyes and he jumped a little. "Thank you so much! Not just for me, but for her and all of the children! Thank you!" He pulled her into a bear hug. He realized a few seconds later that this was the most awkward thing he'd done in over a year, so he quickly let her go.

She straightened her shirt. "You're welcome," she said absently. It was obvious she'd already forgotten what just happened. "Not that I don't want you here, but should you—"

"You're right, I gotta go. Thank you again!" He ran out the door and didn't stop running until he reached the reserve.

**Reserve**

"It's brutal, Dex," Shep told Ronon during the midday break.

Ronon took another bite of his sandwich and turned to face John. "What is?"

John rolled his eyes. "_Everything!_ This heat is brutal, practice is brutal, the formations are brutal, the tactics are brutal, and the suspense is brutal."

Ronon sighed. "Why did you join the army if you were going to complain this much?"

"Because I couldn't find a job anywhere else and I like complaining," Shep said honestly.

"Sounds good to me. However, I actually think that Kell's going easy on us. The Wraith will be here in two days," Ronon reminded him.

Shep took a huge bite out of – whatever he was eating. "Speak for yourself. You're Ronon. You can take it all. I just got back."

Ronon spoke with his last bite of food in his mouth. "Excuses, excuses. I'm done. I think I'll head back out." He stood to leave.

"You just sat down. Stay here. It's been a while since we talked." John patted the seat for Ronon to return.

Ronon turned and came back, a quizzical look on his face. "Oh-kay. What do you want to talk about?" _Strange._

"I don't know. Have you started talking to Teyla about your dreams?" he asked.

Ronon raised an eyebrow. "Why do you care?"

Shep shrugged. "It's just a question."

"I guess," Ronon mumbled. "Yeah, I told her everything and she's a lot happier." _Why _does_ he care? If Elizabeth didn't know about her being pregnant, he sure doesn't. I better not tell him, though, he'd tell everyone._

John turned to face him. "Everything? That sounds stupid. You didn't tell her _everything,_ did you?"

"I didn't tell her every detail, no, but I told her most of the stuff," Ronon countered.

Shep looked like he was waiting for the latest gossip. "Like what? What didn't you tell her?"

"I don't know. Just small stuff like – my head doesn't hurt there."

John's eyebrows furrowed. "It still hurts? Really? Does she know?"

"_No_, and she isn't going to! Look, I'm leaving. I'll talk to you later," he said, storming out of the shelter. _Something isn't right here. That wasn't Shep._

**Dex home**

"How was your day?" Ronon asked Teyla as he helped her set the table.

She looked up at him. "You first," she told him. She looked drawn and ill, and it made Ronon's heart hurt. This was _really_ bothering her.

Ronon shook off the thought that maybe it was the baby – again – and answered. "Um. It was pretty tough. You know, since we're getting ready and all. I think it's more for show, though. We've been ready for three lunar cycles." He realized he was missing a fork and went to get it.

"How is – Shep re-adjusting to the army?" she asked hesitantly. Something about nicknames made her feel uncomfortable. It always had.

Ronon cringed. "I don't know. I thought that he was doin' good, but today at lunch, he was acting really strange. He kept asking me questions about things he didn't care about before."

With the table already set, all that was missing was the food. Teyla brought it over from the stove and set in on a hot plate. "Perhaps he is just trying to form a closer friendship with you, before it's – too late," she suggested hesitantly.

Ronon shook his head. "No, that isn't like Shep. Something's up."

Teyla served the food and cut her first piece of meat. "What are you suggesting?"

"I don't know. It's like he's – it's like he cares too much. Like he's just looking for information to gossip or something."

"I do not think it wise to jump to that conclusion. There may be something you're missing." She shrugged and reached for her teacup.

"Why are you defending him? You weren't even there!" he exclaimed. His temper was already short, and this 'discussion' wasn't helping.

Teyla's expression changed: she'd taken offense. "I am not defending him! I am merely suggesting that you may be wrong!" she yelled back.

"You know what? Now that I think about it, you're acting weird too!" He stood and planted his hands on the tabletop.

Teyla stood too. She still only came up to his shoulder, but he could tell she was grateful for whatever height she gained on him. "So you are just going to leave again? Run off to Shep's?" she asked hotly.

"_No,_ I'm not. This is _my_ house and I'm staying here tonight. And how did you know that I went to Shep's the other night?" he fought.

Teyla's eyes sparked angrily. "Of course you went to Shep's!" she growled. "You _have_ no other friends!" She said it with obvious intentions to sting him with her words.

Ronon didn't have a response. Too many things were going on in his thumping head. He couldn't think, and he needed to get out of there before he _really_ said something he'd regret later, should everything on Sateda end badly. He slumped and lowered his tone. "I'm too tired for this, Teyla. I'm going to bed." He turned and walked out of the room.

He lay in bed for a long time and thought, unable to sleep. _It's just stress. That's the only reason that Shep's acting so weird. Teyla – of course she's acting weird! She has stress, hormones, and a child to worry about. This is real. Of course it's real. I was a fool for doubting it. It's real. _Why did he feel like he was trying to convince himself?

_To Be Continued_


	14. Chapter 13

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, etc.

Part 14/21

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Chapter 13

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**Atlantis**

At exactly 0845, Ronon's clock rang out. Without thinking, he grunted, rolled out of bed, and snatched his shirt off of a nearby chair.

By the time that he reached the door, his shirt and shoes were on and he was ready to go. He figured that he'd be the last to show up at the meeting, but he didn't mind. It meant less talking he had to do.

He turned out of the hall in which the military men stayed and into the military women's; a shortcut that he'd learned. As soon as he entered the hall, he spotted Teyla coming out of her quarters. He ran to catch up with her.

"Teyla! Wait up!" he yelled ahead.

She turned and slowed as soon as she heard his voice. "Ronon. I thought you had forgotten about the meeting." She told him, eyes slightly groggy.

"No. I just slept in. what are you doing here?" For some reason, he thought that she should already be there; as if she woke much earlier. But how would he know that?

She shook her head and took on a shameful expression. "I slept in as well." She admitted.

They turned a hall and Ronon saw that they were ahead of schedule. He took a few steps ahead of Teyla and started walking backwards, talking to her. "Hey, we've got a few minutes. Can we stop by the commissary and let me get a couple power bars? I'm starving!" he begged.

She chuckled. "Okay, but we must hurry." She smiled and quickened her pace.

"Thanks," he said with a sigh of relief.

And they took off running. Ronon slowed his pace so she could keep up. Although they were side-by-side, Ronon held out his hand, offering help to Teyla. Without a word, or even a look that he could see, she took it. And they were flying, hand-in-hand, through Atlantis. The wind was in their face and they felt free. Free and happy.

**Conference room **

Ronon had been wrong. His underestimation of how much time they would take got them there five minutes late. Everyone stared as two sweaty, out-of breath, and laughing people ran up the steps. Ronon hardly noticed that all eyes were on them, but Teyla was still blushing ten minutes into the meeting.

"Ronon, I'm glad that you could join us. This meeting is just a way for me to sit down with all of the leaders and be informed of the things going on in the city." Elizabeth explained.

Ronon shrugged. "Okay. . ." He didn't understand why she was bothering to tell him.

Elizabeth could sense his wondering. "Is there anything that you would like to add?" she asked.

He shrugged again. "No, I'm just here to listen."

John was starting to sense the tension in the room, so he intervened. "How are _you_?" he re-asked his partner's question.

"Fine, I guess." He answered. He knew what they were all thinking. He could see the question in all of their eyes. _Do you still think that we're the dream?_ He wasn't going to answer unless one of them had the guts to ask. Of course he knew that this was the dream. Just because it was reccurring didn't mean that it was his _life_. Didn't they know that he was just here to learn enough so that he could leave? Or was he?

Ronon's sudden silence and Elizabeth's frustration finally got to Rodney. "Okay -- um--" he was obviously thinking of something to say. "My team has officially taken all that we know about the Wraith and adapted the new weapon to it. We're one step closer to--" he faltered.

"Total domination?" John asked sarcastically.

Rodney half shrugged. "I guess you could say that."

"Sounds great. I'll get some of my men into the training and distribution process and you get yours into mass production." John suggested.

Rodney just sat there, absorbing it as a command.

"Okay. Does anyone else have something to say?" Elizabeth asked, scanning over everyone except Ronon. "No? Thank you again for coming and I'll see you tomorrow." She said, standing to address them all.

The crowd disintegrated. Elizabeth was the first to leave, as always. John followed her out. Teyla was next and Ronon had to run to keep up with her.

He was finally even with her by the time that they reached the bottom of the stairs. "Slow down! Why are you in such a hurry?"

She looked up at him, eyes enriched with anger. "We must talk in private." She demanded.

Ronon looked around the gate room. _Not much privacy around here. Wait I think I see a--_

Teyla pointed in the direction of his glance. "That balcony." She told him.

**Balcony**

He followed her there, feeling like a kid awaiting his punishment. "What's going on?" he asked as soon as the door was closed behind them.

"What was that about?" she asked immediately, interrupting his last words.

Ronon looked at the ocean, as if searching for an answer. "What was what about?" he looked into her eyes. She could tell that he was trying to remember something.

_He does not need me to yell at him. _She calmed slightly, but it was obvious that she was still mad. "Why did you act like that in there?!"

Innocence and curiosity were the only things that she could see in his eyes. "Teyla -- I--"

_Would Elizabeth mind if I told him the truth? It doesn't matter. He must know. _"Elizabeth -- she did not want you to be there. You were only allowed on my word that you would not -- that you would not act like that." She said in even calmer tones.

Ronon raised his hands in question. "What was I supposed to do? Pretend like it was real? Like this is all real?" he motioned around at the city and the ocean.

"Ronon!" she exclaimed, though in a calm voice. "It _is_ real."

Ronon sat down, resting his back against the city. "I'm tired of this. I'm tired of these dreams. Will you _please _just tell me what I'm supposed to know?"

_This has gone on long enough. _She walked over and sat next to him, as if to show him that she was a friend. "Ronon. I do not want to confuse or frustrate you, but you must know that this _is_ your life. This is where you really are. This is where you're supposed to be."

He looked at her. His eyes didn't show the anger that she was expecting. Instead, they were filled with confusion.

"This _is_ your life. The other is false, a method of extracting information," she repeated.

Ronon looked out at the ocean. "And how do I know that Sateda isn't real and you're not the one trying to get information?"

She looked at him. _I must act as a friend, trying to figure this out along with him. _"What information would we gain from monitoring your life on Sateda?" she asked without sarcasm or malice.

He looked at her, thinking. "I don't know." Those words were all that he could think to say.

"I cannot imagine the decision that you are faced with. I want you to know that I am here. I am your friend." She put a hand on his knee.

He placed a hand on top of hers. He turned his head, looking into her eyes, and smiled. "I know, thank you."

Teyla sighed. "I think that you need time to yourself, but if you would rather me stay--" she silently enjoyed the feeling of his warmth of his hand on hers.

"Maybe you're right." He thought to himself, watching the waves.

**Balcony **

Ronon sat there for a half hour after Teyla left, just watching the waves, not thinking of anything. It was peaceful. However, peace always had to end eventually.

_Why is she so persistent? Could she _possibly _be right? _

_My Teyla is always asking me things, but she loves me. She wants to know how I am. _

_What about that fight? She wanted so badly to know. Why? _

_Why does she never tell me about her day anymore? Why is it always about me?_

_Why is Teyla the only person comfortable around me if we're all supposed to be friends?_

Somehow, he started to remember something. A whole other life. The second life was the exact same as the first until he turned seventeen. Instead of meeting Teyla, he met -- Melena? Who was that? He could remember all the events that supposedly led up to their last mission.

_Just because I remember what she's talking about, it doesn't make it any more right. Every fact toward proving this life can also go to disproving it. _

_Sateda is my dream life, but it doesn't feel right. This isn't right either, though._

_The Wraith. That weapon. There couldn't possibly be a weapon to destroy the Wraith once and for all, could there?_

He wanted to believe it. That meant that he had more of a possibility of defeating the Wraith on Sateda.

_I need more proof. I can't make a decision now. _His stomach growled. _I need food. _

**Elizabeth's office**

As always, Elizabeth was the first out of the conference room after the meeting was over.

As always, John followed her like a puppy dog into her office.

As always, John sat on her desk.

As always, Elizabeth pretended not to notice the pattern.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" she asked him from her chair.

He kicked his legs back and forth. "That was intense."

She shrugged. "I understand how he feels, but I agree. He could have expressed it in a better way." She felt bad for saying that. She never liked to talk badly about her people. But this was John she was talking to, surely he'd understand.

He did understand how she felt about Ronon. She appreciated him and understood how valuable he was, but there was a definite tension every they were together, and not the good kind. She never felt comfortable with Ronon.

"I guess." He said, obviously thinking of something else. He inhaled sharply. "Elizabeth--" he stopped himself.

"Yes, John?" she raised an eyebrow.

He looked at her. "I--" He looked away, not wanting to continue. "Never mind."

She leaned forward. "No, go on." She pushed him. Was he going where she thought?

"Look, I've been thinking about what Ronon said -- that we were engaged." There was no turning back now, but he needed to rest from the emotions that came with forcing those lines out.

Hope filled her eyes. "Yes?" she begged him to continue, leaning back.

Obviously, he sensed her joy and hope, because he continued with a little more confidence. "I don't know -- it just -- it doesn't seem that wrong to me." His voice went slightly higher, as if he were defending the fact.

She smiled and leaned forward.

**Commissary**

Eating was boring without Teyla, but he wasn't going to radio her. It was past her usual eating time and he didn't want to interrupt whatever she was doing.

_Oh great. Mr. Weapons. _

"Mind if I sit here?" John asked, motioning to the empty seat across from Ronon.

"No," he said curtly.

John, pretending not to notice the tone as he placed his tray on the table, sat down. "I just came from Elizabeth's office. We've decided that you are welcome to future meetings, but--" his eyes filled with apology, he was about to say something difficult.

"I know. I acted like a jerk. I'm sorry," Ronon said quickly and quietly.

John shrugged and nodded. "That was easy." There was a short yet distinct pause. "Oh man! You should see what Rodney did to the weapon!"

Ronon sighed. "Are you just talking about guns because you don't know what else to say, or is that all that you know about?" Ronon asked as a friend: an annoyed friend.

"The first one. Was it that obvious?" he asked in a pained voice.

Ronon nodded. "Yeah"

John squirmed. "Well, what else do you want to talk about?"

He shrugged. "Hunting, Wraith, we could make fun of McKay?" he laughed.

"All good ideas. Hey! When we're finished here, could we spar? It's been a while and I'm getting rusty," John asked, now warmed up to Ronon.

_This is cool._ Ronon thought, remembering how close they used to be. "Sure, but you can't get 'rusty' if you were never any good to begin with," Ronon informed him.

They did just that. They ate together, laughing and talking like the friends the should be. When they were finished (hours later), they sparred.

Ronon avoided Teyla for the night, not ready to talk about serious matters. He needed more time. Instead, he stuck with John for the rest of the day and went to bed early, not knowing if he was waking or sleeping.

_To Be Continued_


	15. Chapter 14

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, etc.

Part 15/21

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Chapter 14

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**Sateda**

The sun wasn't up, but Ronon was. Every person on the planet was up at this time. They needed every hour they could spare.

**Reserve**

Although it was one of the busiest times for the city, Ronon felt alone.

The women, children, and elders had left literally over night. The only people left now were the army and makeshift brute squads made of the men that couldn't be housed off-world.

They had been at the reserve since sunrise, preparing. It was a strange feeling, knowing the Wraith were going to be there in a day. The unusual warning and preparation time felt strange to them, but they were grateful.

They had a day. One day, they estimated, until the Wraith would be there, and they needed to be ready.

Ronon started the day off with war strategies. Next was distribution of the weapons, and now he was leading drills.

This was the only time Ronon was in leadership, when Kell was off-world. He'd left to secure the beta site, so the command was left to Ronon. Lorne took over his squadron, so Ronon could focus on his new duties.

He was ready. The whole army was ready –- well, as ready as they could be. The only thing the wait would bring was fear, and lots of it.

Ronon stood in front of the thousands of men in front of him and smiled. The gracious beta site had allowed all women and men that couldn't fight to stay, so every person left on the planet was ready for war. _For the first time in many generations, I believe we have a chance of defeating the Wraith that come._

He froze. The hairs on the back of his neck rose: something was wrong. He could feel ice in the air. His body went cold.

The alarm sounded.

_Ancestors! This is a day early!_ Ronon swallowed back his panic and immediately began to snap orders. "To your stations! Go! Fall to your stations! We can defeat them!" he yelled from his platform as he watched his men scatter.

Maybe he was wrong. Maybe they weren't ready. _No!_ his mind immediately retaliated against the thought. They _would_ survive! _For Teyla._

Ronon jumped off the five-foot-high platform and ran toward the gate with the best of his men.

Darts flew overhead as Wraith stunners sounded off in every direction. Ronon didn't hear any of it. The only thing he heard were the footsteps. Every step of every man and Wraith ran through his head like a wartime drumbeat.

He positioned himself under a statue and shot a dart out of the sky with a weapon stationed there.

A footstep to his right.

A weapon fired.

Ronon jumped to the left and shot the Wraith charging toward him with his personal weapon.

Shep ran up to him. "I've got this, Dex! You go!" he yelled over the chaos.

Ronon left the larger stationary weapon and gripped his gun. He dashed toward the Gate, shooting Wraith with every step. _Ancestors! There're _thousands_ of them!_

Something wasn't right, though. It was probably just in his head, but it was as if the only fighting was what was around him. He could only hear darts close enough to see. He signaled the men to join them at the gate.

The war was raging. Bodies were falling all around them; Darts crashing out of the sky. Adrenaline rushed through Ronon as he ran all around the city, eradicating the enemy one at a time.

Hours went by. They filed past as nothing more than blurs filled with shooting, stabbing, and running for his life. There was nothing but the battle. Nothing but him and the enemy. The sky was grey and overcast; the sun barely streaming washed-out light through the clouds. Although it was winter, Ronon found himself wiping sweat from his forehead every few seconds.

He was in his element. This was what Ronon was good at. _This_ was where he belonged: fighting the Wraith. Forget about the humans around him: he cared only about extinguishing Wraith. Like this, he was happy. Something about this entire situation felt really _right_.

He shot the last Wraith in that area of the city and ran to help the men in Lorne's sector.

Lorne was finishing up, too, as Ronon arrived. They exchanged a nod from separate corners of an alley as they fought. _This is going relatively easy. Where's Shep?_ He noticed the weapon previously manned was abandoned. He went searching for his friend.

Shep was at the rear of a dead-end alley, frozen and holding his side. Something was wrong with the picture, but Ronon could only see half the alley. He ducked into a corner and silently moved to get a better view. A Wraith had Shep cornered. He was going to die.

"AHH!" Ronon charged.

The Drone turned.

Ronon shot.

The Drone shot.

At the same time, all three of them hit the ground.

Unconscious.

**Atlantis**

He shot up in bed, gasping for breath. He scanned his quarters, left to right, making sure that everything was right. His stomach was uneasy. He felt a longing, but for what, he didn't know. Something was wrong. Something about this whole situation wasn't making sense.

_Why is this happening? _He couldn't stand it, being there. He couldn't take it any longer. He _had_ to prove that this life was a lie . . . wasn't it?

He growled, jumped out of bed, and grabbed his shirt. He wasn't going to have peace until these dreams stopped, whatever the dreams were.

He charged down the hallway, mind set on answers. He didn't watch where he was going; he didn't need to. He just stared at the ground and marched toward the gym.

The lights automatically came on when he walked in. He knew that he would be alone. The gym didn't officially open for hours still.

He went up to a punching bag and let loose, channeling all of his aggression into it. He jabbed, hooked, and drove his fist in as hard as he could.

Each punch was direct, powerful, and rhythmic as he listened to the sounds to the bag flopping and the chain jingling. _Why. Is. This. Happening? I. Can't. Stand. This. I. Hate. Dreams. _The last punch came with extra force -- unfortunately for the punching bag. Instead of the jingle, he heard a plop.

_Well, I've been asking for a new bag. Now we're sure to get it. _

He left that room and moved into the sparring room. He really didn't like sparring alone, didn't see the point, but something about the room was drawing him in. Pleasant memories were tied to it.

He went through a series of moves that were burned into his memory. He didn't know if Teyla had taught them to him here or his father on Sateda when he was young, he didn't know anything about his past.

That wasn't entirely right. He knew _too_ much about his past. It was as if he had lived two lives, but that was impossible. Could he just pick one and live in it?

No! He could never accept that. He wanted _his_ life, the real one. But which was that?

He moved, jumped, and fought his invisible partner until he couldn't any longer. With all of his strength gone, he fell to the ground, drew his knees up to his chest, and placed his arms on them. His head sagged as he thought.

He closed his eyes, so tired. His body was screaming for sleep, but his mind wouldn't allow it.

He got a flash of Sateda, waking up in an infirmary, then opened his eyes to the gym again.

He surveyed the spacious room, all the while thinking. _How am I going to do this? How can I choose? Which is right? _He tried to remember flaws in either world, but couldn't.

He closed his eyes, unable to focus. Another flash: John standing over his bed.

A familiar noise filled the room and he lifted his head. A tickle of warmth crept up into his hopeless, empty life.

"I thought I would find you here," Teyla said. She walked up to him and outstretched an arm.

He took her hand and stood up, grabbing the Bantos rods next to him on his way up. "Huh?" he was too tired to speak right at this moment.

"You are not the only one that is finding sleep difficult." She walked over to get her rods, sparring skirt gracefully moving behind her. "I know that you are trying to decide who to believe and I thought that you could use a friend." She got into her starting stance, twirling a rod.

Ronon circled the room. He was overjoyed that she'd sensed his need. She was the only person here he could talk to, be totally honest with. "I'm at a point that I want to just pick one life and live it." He started to feel adrenaline pulsing through his body. He was getting a second wind.

She watched him, choosing to listen and let him discover the answer

He joined her in the middle of the room, standing across from her. "I know that I can't, though. The hardest thing is that _both_ lives seem real." He crouched down, a tiger ready to pounce.

"Is there anything in either that seem strange? Something that would make you feel as if it were false?" Teyla said as she made the first strike, a swipe at his ribs.

Evading the blow, he spun and struck her wrist softly. "Well, there's a lot of different stuff between them."

She shook her wrist and cocked her head in curiosity.

"Well, _you're_ a lot different," he told her, not moving. He let her ready herself first. They had an unspoken agreement. This wasn't a fight, just a way to make the conversation -- not awkward.

She regained her ground and waited for him to attack. "Besides the fact that we are married?"

He hit, blocked, spun, and twisted; responding to her moves. "Well, that too, but you're not as . . ." he didn't know how to say it. He loved both Teylas, maybe in different ways, but he didn't want to say anything bad about either. "She isn't a warrior, she's strong in another way. You're--" he cut himself off. He knew that she felt strange whenever he spoke of her being his wife. "Different. But not in a bad way," he assured her with a smile.

Teyla struck, dodged, moved, hit, parried, and ducked; feeling like an outlet of his anger. "Is there anything that you feel does not belong?" she asked calmly between blows.

Ronon lifted his arm to wipe the sweat from his forehead quickly, then brought the hand down on her rod, easily stopping the match. "Um -- I always have headaches in Sateda, but I figured it was from the stress." He shrugged.

She nodded, knowing what they really were, but realizing that he understood that theory as well.

"Is there anything else? Are events repetitive?" she asked. It was hard, trying to think of things to sway this thoughts.

He let go of her rod and stepped back, thinking hard. "Hmm -- I always wake up at the same time there, but I was like that when I was a Runner here, too. Every day is the same. I wake up, talk to -- well, _you,_ go to the reserve, talk to John, and come home to you. Here, things are more random. Then again, dreams are random. But there's still something about there. It's -- I feel like I'm one of those pawns in Rodney's 'chess' game. It's as if it isn't me controlling my life. I don't know," Ronon admitted as he got a drink from her water bottle since he'd forgotten his own. He wiped the mouth of it off and handed it to her for a drink.

He didn't even want to talk about the Wraith attack or him being stunned. It didn't have to do with whether or not Sateda was real, and he didn't want to talk about anything else.

She happily accepted. "What about Atlantis? Is there anything about this place that you find unbelievable?"

He walked back to the center of the room, so weary that it was a task just to stand. He thought hard, trying to think of things.

Teyla saw the exhaustion in his eyes. She quietly sat against the wall across the room, offering for him to join her.

He gladly did so. He sat down, so close that they almost touched, and put his head against the wall behind him. "I can't explain it. Something just isn't right about this place. I feel awkward here. It's like Sateda feels more right. It feels . . ." he didn't want to continue, didn't want her to know.

She put her hand on his knee. "Ronon, you can share your thoughts freely. Do not worry about what I will think."

"Sateda is all that I've ever wanted in life. I'm back in the reserve, Shep and I are friends and--" He looked at her once more, quickly, needing the confidence to continue.

She simply nodded.

"I have _you_," he said in a defeated tone, too tired and frustrated to hide his emotions. She tensed and he knew that it was the wrong thing to say. "I mean I have her," he said quickly, backtracking.

She relaxed and sighed. "I understand," she said, acknowledging that she wasn't uncomfortable.

"Did I tell you she was pregnant?" he asked. He grinned so widely his face felt stretched.

Her eyes widened, her eyebrows went up, and she inhaled loudly. "No, you did not." She didn't act as if it made her uncomfortable, she was just happy for him -- them. Buther smile was still a little strained.

He realized that something about the woman next to him was as intoxicating and magnetic as the one that was waiting for him on Sateda. He realized that he loved her. He needed some time to think. Alone.

She sighed, obviously uncomfortable. "Ronon, I--"

"Look, I gotta go. I need to think about this." He stood and held his hand out to help her up.

She nodded and accepted the offer.

He jerked her up with little effort and got her belongings for her. "Look, thanks for coming tonight. It -- it really means a lot to me. You helped me figure stuff out." He handed her things to her.

There was a moment when both of their hands were on her water bottle and they were looking into each other's eyes. A very strange, different, wonderful moment.

Ronon cleared his throat. "I'll see you tomorrow." He nodded and walked out of the gym quickly. The whole way back to his quarters, he was filled with more emotions and questions than he had when he went in.

_I'm emotionally, mentally, and physically involved in both worlds.. What am I going to _do_? _

_To Be Continued_


	16. Chapter 15

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, etc.

Part 16/21

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Chapter 15

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**Sateda**

John, standing over him in the infirmary. That was the first thing that Ronon saw.

"Hey! He's up!" John yelled across the room.

Ronon tried to sit up, but fell back with a grunt. The last time he saw John-- "Are you okay? What happened?" He touched his left side and felt a gauze.

"You took a bloody shot to your ribs, that's what happened," Carson explained. He walked around the bed to check under the gauze.

Ronon squinted, trying to understand. "My ribs? He shot me straight on." _It should have hit my chest. Why does my hip hurt so much?_

John immediately came to the head of Ronon's bed; a better angle to catch his friend up on the events. "Ah man! It was the coolest thing ever!" he exclaimed.

"What?" He'd seen it. He'd _seen_ the Wraith blast. He'd _felt_ his head hit the ground.

John let Carson through and came closer to the head of the bed. "You charged at him and the second he fired, you were in mid-air. It was _incredible_! You were flying! Well, until you hit the ground. That was more of a thud," John corrected himself.

"Give the man a break!" Carson reprimanded. He leaned a little toward Ronon. "You were very brave back there. I've heard the stories," he said with a smile.

"Stories?" All of this was very strange. He was just fighting; shooting and fighting the Wraith. Why didn't he remember any of this?

"Aye! Ronon Dex, quick as a cheetah and strong as an ox. Ronon Dex, charging through the city, killing hundreds of Wraith on his way. Ronon Dex, saving the lives of dozens of men. You're quite the hero." Beckett gently placed the dressing back. "It looks like you're healing nicely. You should be up and about by the time the women come back later." He encouraged.

Ronon sat up, enduring the pain. "Wait. The Wraith were here yesterday. What about rebuilding time?" There was always at least a day or two spent repairing the Wraith's -- redecorating.

"Not this time. Thanks to you and the WCRS, they're free to return today," John interrupted proudly.

_Teyla. She's coming today._ Ronon didn't know what to think about that. He was glad that she was safe, but she didn't leave on good terms. He was depending on the extra time to think of what to say.

"I think he need time alone," Carson told John, responding to Ronon's silence.

John looked between the doctor and the man on the stretcher. Ronon was just staring ahead, thinking. "Uh -- yeah. I'll check in later, Dex."

Ronon slowly nodded, too many things buzzing in his head to speak. _So many decisions to make. So many things to figure out. _

**Ancestral ring**

Ronon watched the Satedans returning. Children were running, women were singing, and men were laughing.

The atmosphere was different than any previous return. Instead of the morose, respectful feeling, people were happy. It was strange.

He leaned against his crutch. Teyla was probably in the back of the line to come through. She was always a patient woman. And she probably didn't know what to say to him either.

He still didn't think he was wrong: he _wouldn't_ apologize. However, he knew that he would have to. Either that, or walk home in silence. What would he say? Was he really going to give up and lie just to make things less awkward?

"Last group!" Lorne yelled to the remaining men at the gate.

Ronon tensed. He pushed his weight against the crutches and stood straight with a grunt of pain.

She came through. She was wearing the same clothes as when she left. Her hair was disheveled, her face dirty, and a scratch ran down her hand from wrist to the knuckle of her index finger. _Maybe it would've been easier on her to stay, _Ronon thought, considering all that she must have had to do.

She took a step closer to him, and he saw that a child was holding her hand. Ronon recognized her. She was one of the girls that Teyla had really grown close to since she'd started working at the orphanage.

He stood, waiting for her to come up to him, buying him as much time as possible.

Never in his life had he ever imagined feeling this way. And toward _Teyla_. He really wished that she hadn't come back. Why was that? He knew that she wasn't _really_ all of the evil things that his dreams said. Was it because he was guilty and didn't want to admit it? He didn't _think_ so.

She stood across from him, her expression cold. She inhaled sharply and looked down at the girl next to her. "Many of the women are tired from the trip, so I agreed to stay with the children tonight," she informed him. She allowed him no time to fight her.

Elation. That's all that he could feel. Not sadness, stress, or worry. He was just _happy_ that he'd have more time by himself to think things out. "Um--" he swallowed. "Okay. Then I'll see you--?"

"After work tomorrow." She nodded, her lips pressed together so hard they were white.

He tried not to smile. "Right. I'll see you then."

She turned and walked away without another word, gently pulling the little girl alongside her.

Ronon saw the girl look back at him, thumb in her mouth. He made a silly face at her so he could see her smile and giggle. _Hold up. Teyla -- is she _mad_? At _me_?_ She was. Did she _really_ still think that she was right?

Ronon thought about all of these things as he wandered down the streets, back to his house. He was looking forward to spending the rest of the day alone. As was still the case since the dreams first started, he needed time to think.

**Dex home**

Ronon walked into a dark house, something that he hadn't done in years. He hung his stuff up and stumbled into the kitchen. "Ancestors, it's dark in here!" he exclaimed to himself.

A light turned on.

Ronon allowed his crutch to clatter to the ground as he grabbed a Bantos rod from the holder beside him, ready to defeat the predator who had invaded his home. It wasn't unusual for looters to go through houses after the Wraith left.

A figure stepped into the stream of light, hands raised. "Whoa. Cool down, man," Shep said calmly.

Ronon gripped the rod tighter. "Why are you here?" he growled.

"Oh-kay. If you're going to be like that, I'm here because I heard your woman wasn't gonna be. I thought you could use some company." He lifted his right hand to show that he'd helped himself to the ale.

_What is he _doing? Ronon was tempted to force Shep to leave, hopefully with violence involved, but he didn't. He wanted to give Shep a chance to redeem himself. He wanted to have a chance to confirm that this was his real life. He wanted to prove that Shep was a friend, not someone trying to get information out of him.

He threw the rod down, cooly ignoring the crutch. It was just a bothersome thing anyway. He could limp around without it just as well as he could with it. "Whatever." _I don't feel like pushing the point. In fact, I don't feel like pushing _any_ point right now._

As Shep walked past him to sit down, Ronon smoothly snatched the mug out of his hand. "Hey!" John complained.

Ronon shrugged. "My house, my ale."

John nodded. "Fair enough." He walked back into the kitchen and returned with another mug.

**Later**

Ronon stared into his half-empty cup. He never liked drinking unless he was too drunk to notice. He wasn't quite to that point yet, and didn't think he'd be reaching it tonight.

"Okay, so let me get this. You _really_ think that Kell _isn't_ a crap bag?" Shep leaned forward tipsily.

Ronon chuckled. "I never said that. I just said that I understand what he's doing. But, for the record, I would never put it like that." He pointed a finger to Shep.

"You _understand,_" he slurred, "that that--" he pointed his finger in the general direction of the reserve, then spun it in little circles, "jack-"

"Hey!" Ronon interrupted. He knew that John cussed, but he never did like it.

John rolled his eyes. "Okay, then. I don't understand how you think that _jerk_ thinks it's okay to abandon his people. We both know that the 'secondary reserve' is a bunch of--" he paused at Ronon's raised eyebrows. "--bull," he compromised.

Ronon sighed. "I know. It's wrong. I'm just thinking more about what he's doing to _help_ us. He's a jerk, yes, but he's a good trainer, just a bad leader. . ." he trailed off. Something flashed into his memory.

_Kell._

_Teyla. _

_Gunfire. _

_Kell falling to the ground, blast to his chest. _

_Peace. Guilt. Joy. _

_Atlantis life,_ Ronon decided.

"Dex!" John yelled, clapping his hands in front of Ronon's eyes.

Ronon jumped.

Shep cocked his head, the movement nearly knocking him off his seat. "Were you daydreaming again?"

Ronon quietly shook his head for a moment, contemplating. "Nah. Just thinking," he finally said.

"How are those going by the way?"

_He couldn't possibly -- no. He's too drunk to be trying to do anything. Or is he? Ancestors! I'm thinking too much. _Yet again, Ronon cursed every dream that he'd ever had. Whichever life that was.

He spoke honestly. "Better. A lot better." He took a brief sip of ale. He still didn't like the stuff, he just wanted to hide his grin.

John's druken face tweaked slightly, a minute amount hardly noticeable to Ronon. "What do you mean? They're gone?"

_This is just Shep. Too dang kind and caring for others. Even to the point of annoyance. Right? _"Why? You know that I don't like to talk about it." His eyes hardened. He put his legs up on the table in front of him. He appeared more at ease, but he was feeling far fromcomfortable.

"It's just a question." Shep put his hands up defensively.

Ronon held back a growl. "And this is just an answer: no."

Shep raised his eyebrows. "Fair enough." He paused and looked around the room.

"It's late." Ronon said calmly, forcefully.

"I got it." John stood unsteadily and headed to the door. His hand stopped at the doorknob. "Look, man--" he said in his sluggish voice again. "I'm really sorry if I ticked you off or anything. I really didn't mean to make you mad." His eyes showed a genuine element Ronon wasn't expecting.

He stared at John for a moment before answering. "It's okay." He motioned to the mug still in Shep's hand.

"Oh. Sorry." John handed it back.

Although he would normally find humor, he couldn't get past the thoughts in his mind to react. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah. See ya." And with that, he left.

Ronon counted five. Five times that he stumbled before he was out of sight. _It's official. Ancestors! Why am I not any happier?_

_To Be Continued_


	17. Chapter 16

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, etc.

Part 17/21

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**Chapter 16**

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Atlantis

At nine o'clock Ronon Dex woke up and threw the sheets off of himself.

It was time. He was ready.

He immediately headed to his door, dressing on the way. Once out in the hall, he turned left and kept walking. He was on a mission, and he wasn't going to stop until it was complete.

Ronon rang the chime to enter and was allowed passage. The room was dark, illuminated only by the candles used for meditating. "You win," he said as soon as the door opened. He walked into the room, comfortable there. _Here_, he belonged.

Teyla stood and blew a candle out. "To what are you referring?" she asked. He noticed she carefully refrained from looking in his direction.

Ronon sat on her couch, the only option besides the bed. "_Everything_. You're right about all of it." He leaned forward to catch her hand and tug to motion that he wanted her to sit next to him.

She sat on the other side of the couch from him as the lights in the room came on. "You now believe me?" she asked with undeniable joy.

Ronon smiled and took her hand, holding the small appendage between his. "I do." He tensed, but she didn't notice. _"I do." Those are powerful words._

She smiled so big that she burst into laughter, joyous and free.

Smoke still wafted up from the candles set around on various pieces of furniture, and their aromas lingered in the room. They smelled familiar, real. Like flowers and spices. Like _Teyla_. "What?" he asked. He absently played with her hand to get her attention.

She shook her head. "I am just happy that you finally understand. May I ask—?"

"What took me so long?" He interrupted in an attempt to make the question easier for her.

A slightly frustrated expression contorted her face, brought on by his interruption. "No. What changed your mind?" she corrected.

"Oh. Honestly, there were a lot of things wrong. I finally woke up and realized I was holding on to something that was wrong. And then—" He stopped, and an awkward pause fell between them.

She adjusted in her seat and took her hand back. "And then?" Their bodies were closer than before, and they could both feel it.

Ronon just looked at her. _I can't tell her. It's too soon. It might. . . I don't want to mess this up._ He swallowed hard.

"Ronon. You can tell me anything. I want you to feel comfortable sharing," Teyla assured him softly. She rested her chin on her upraised knee, watching him with intense focus.

_If I don't tell her, I – she might. . . I have to tell her! _"It's just— You know one of the main things holding me back was – you. The Teyla in Sateda." He paused, waiting for her nod. "Well, I realized that – she, the Teyla in Sateda, she wasn't right. She wasn't as strong, brave, or—" He stopped. Now that the moment of truth had come, he wasn't sure he could say what needed to be said. Could he even admit it to himself, let alone Teyla?

Tears filled her eyes and she swallowed a lump in her throat. "Or what?" she whispered with eyes filled with hope. The last lingering whisps of smoke had cleared. It was just them now.

Ronon looked away from her captivating eyes. "She wasn't _you_. I didn't love her. It took me all this time to realize that. She's just – _wrong,_" he said openly. It was something he'd never done before. "Ancestors! What is it about you that makes me talk so much?"

They both laughed. Not because it was funny, but because they needed the pause. The atmosphere was too strong, too intense.

Ronon couldn't wait. He had to tell her now. "What I'm saying is. . . I love _you_, Teyla." He took her hand and cradled it in both of his. He stared into her eyes with eager anticipation, excited yet afraid of what she might say. "Not her. _You_."

She just looked at him, eyes wide. _I shouldn't have said that! _Now_ how can we ever be friends again? What is she thinking?_ The thoughts tumbled around in his head frantically. For a moment he wished he could take the words back.

"Will you _please_ say something?" he begged. To encourage her, he stroked the back of her small, soft hand.

She didn't. She just lifted her free, small hand and stroked the side of his face, eyes glued to his.

It was just a matter of time now.

Their locked eyes had an intensity that sent a jolt of white-hot electricity through Ronon.

Ronon kept her hand in his, but cradled her head with his free one. Their faces moved closer slowly until they were together, at last sharing that so-long-anticipated kiss.

This was different than any of the kisses Ronon had shared with Satedan Teyla. Those were empty. This was full. Full of meaning, full of passion, and most importantly, full of _love_.

When the kiss was over, Ronon smiled. "So – I'm guessing that was your answer?"

She laughed and nodded. "Yes, Ronon. Yes."

Ronon put his hand back on her face and drew closer. Then he stopped. Before he – they – did anything stupid, he knew he needed to stop.

. . .At least for now. "Look, Teyla—"

She stood abruptly. "I am hungry." Her tone made it clear she understood what he was thinking.

Ronon rose and held her hand as they walked into the hall. However, when they were outside of the room, she let go. He shot her a slightly wounded look. His hand already felt cold without the warmth of hers.

"Ronon, I think it would be wise—" she faltered. Her eyes begged for his understanding.

He stopped and looked down at her. "I know. It's best if we don't go braggin' until we tell Dr. Weir and Shep -- uh, Sheppard."

"Yes," she sighed. Disappointment lingered in her spirited dark eyes.

"Will you still join me for breakfast?" he asked. The question was innocent and vulnerable, just like he felt.

Teyla chuckled and quickly touched his elbow: to an outsider, a platonic gesture; to him, so much more. "Of course."

**Cafeteria**

"So how am I supposed to end the dreams?" Ronon asked a few minutes into their meal.

Teyla paused, spoonful of grapefruit halfway to her mouth. In all the time she'd been trying to convince Ronon of what was right, she'd never thought of how to end the wrong. "Perhaps your doubt will bring them to an end?" she suggested weakly.

He thought for a moment and shook his head. "No. I was pretty sure they were wrong before. If that was the case, they should already be gone."

She stared at her food, deep in thought. After a moment, she looked back up at him and smiled. He wasn't the same Ronon that she'd known before, he was so much more. Somehow better.

He smiled back. His eyes shone with his love for her.

She felt something hit her knee under the table. She knew what it was and gently placed her hand in his. She felt so sneaky; so scandalous. She liked it.

She looked around the room to see who was within hearing range. She decided to stick to business. "Who has been the one to influence you toward sharing information?"

Ronon took a sip of juice with his free hand. Well, he attempted a sip, but his smile wouldn't scrunch, so it was more of a gulp. "More recently, I would have to say Shep -- Col. Sheppard," he corrected himself.

"Then, perhaps--" she drew the last word out.

Ronon tensed and subconsciously squeezed Teyla's hand under the table. "What? You want me to -- to _kill _him?!" People turned in response to his volume. He looked around the room with eyes daring them to keep watching. They didn't.

Teyla paused. "I do not have any other ideas. Drs. Beckett and McKay have confirmed that there is not a signal. I can not imagine any other possibility." She paused to gauge his reaction. "You must remember that he is just a means to extract information," she encouraged. They could both tell that she would never want to be in his position.

Ronon stroked her hand with his thumb. He wanted to feel her skin against his. "I don't really mind. He's been kinda a jack -- uh, jerk lately." He laughed to himself.

She cocked her head. Her eyes asked: _What?_

He shook his head. "Nothing. Just an inside joke."

She wanted to get back on topic. "Do you have any other idea of how to exterminate the dreams? I do not know if mine will work."

"I don't know. Your idea sounds like the closest thing we've come up with. It seems like all of Sateda revolves around me, so I'd guess that I could end it -- maybe." He paused, deep in thought.

It was obvious that she didn't want to settle it at that. "It is possible to shut the dreams off somehow?"

"I don't know. It's not like there's a big switch board or something." He paused. "No, I'm fine with killing him." he nodded.

Teyla's eyes showed clear discomforture with their line of conversation.

"He's not the same. If it were you, he'd already be dead."

She tilted her head.

"Okay, maybe not." He always knew that she had more self-control, but it was just their friendship that kept him from killing Shep all this time.

She smiled and nodded. "So -- is that the plan?"

"I guess." He shrugged. It seemed that he was using it as an excuse, like he didn't want to consider any other option. But that wasn't the idea at all. He just couldn't take his mind off of the woman across from him. He couldn't break eye contact with her. He squeezed her hand tighter. Although it was cliché, he never wanted to let her go.

Her leg grazed his hand as she shifted under the table. "Then I wish you success." She smiled.

He smiled -- still. It felt like he'd never stop smiling. It felt _good_.

After a long exchange of silent conversation, Teyla looked down at her food.

"You're finished?"

"Yes." Her tone reveled obvious disappointment.

He grabbed her tray and froze. Either he had to let go of her hand or they'd have to carry the table across the room. He stroked her hand once more before releasing it. _This woman is__ something special. _

**Elizabeth's office**

"Hmm-" Elizabeth thought deeply. "Eat a rock the size of my wrist," she decided.

John jumped out of his seat across the room from her. "What?! You _can't _be serious! You'd rather eat something that's impossible to swallow than lose a finger? That's _crazy_!" John exclaimed.

She withdrew and reconsidered. "I can't grind it up first?" she asked innocently and batted her eyelashes.

"You can break it up into three pieces," John acquiesced.

"I still think I'd want to keep all me fingers," she repeated.

He hopped up on her desk. "You're cute. Still crazy, but cute." They both laughed. Then they realized what they were doing, saying, in comparison to what they were _supposed_ to be doing, and sat there in the midst of silent intensity, staring at each other.

They still hadn't done anything besides hold hands and eat meals together, but Elizabeth could tell that something more was happening.

"My turn," she finally said. There was work to do, but it could wait. Moments like these were too rare to let go of now.

John hopped off the desk and assumed his position in the chair across the room. "Shoot." He crossed his legs and folded his hands in his lap.

"Would you rather — be alone in space for three years or . . . lose an eye?" she asked self-consciously. She loved "Would You Rather", but she'd never been good at it. She generally copied others' answers or changed them slightly.

"Are you kidding?! I'm in the Air Force. I'd _love_ to be in space for three years!" he said as a child-like joy filled his eyes.

She leaned forward. "But alone?"

He paused. "_Alone. _'Alone' wouldn't bother me a month ago. But now -- now I might miss . . . people."

She blushed. His implication was clear. "John -- I--" She turned her head to look out the door when a sudden noise caught her attention.

At first, John thought that she was afraid of someone overhearing, but then he started to hear voices, easily recognizable by tone, volume, and inflection: Ronon and Teyla.

"No. I've got this. Get some rest." A bass voice insisted.

There was a pause. "If you insist." The soft, feminine voice replied. There was an edge of amusement in her tone.

John craned his neck to see them. Something about their tones made him feel strange. He couldn't see anything. They were in blind spot to both Elizabeth's office and the control room.

"I'll see you later?" Ronon asked.

As far as John could hear, there wasn't a response.

Eventually, there was an inaudible whisper and the two occupants of Elizabeth's office heard footsteps receding.

Both Elizabeth and John immediately turned back to face each other, pretending they hadn't been listening. They exchanged a quick glance. _She heard the tone, too,_ John noted. He wondered if she knew what it meant.

Ronon walked in and took a seat next to John.

"What can I help you with?" Elizabeth asked, a sudden business façade covering her earlier teasing expression.

Ronon leaned forward, his expression one of genuine apology with underlying happiness. John wasn't sure he'd ever seen that expression on his Satedan teammate's face before. "I just wanted to say that -- that I'm sorry about what I said. Oh -- and I'm -- I'm back."

John twisted in his chair, turning to look at Ronon. "Back?" he asked hopefully.

"Yeah. I understand that Sateda is just a dream. _This_ is my real life." Ronon's voice was slow and vulnerable. It was obvious that this conversation was difficult for him.

"Well, I'm glad. Have the dreams stopped?" Elizabeth asked quickly. John knew it was because she wanted to focus on getting the business aspect taken care of before the rejoicing.

"I'm -- working on it," Ronon admitted.

John exchanged a glance with Elizabeth. "I'm glad that you now understand, but you must realize that you can't rejoin the team until they're gone. We have no clue how much info they can get from you," John told him. He was speaking as Ronon's team leader, but more as his friend.

Ronon nodded as if he'd been expecting that answer.

"Working on it?" Elizabeth asked, revisiting the ex-Runner's previous statement.

Ronon sighed. They all knew that the long briefing was coming. This was going to take a while.

**Outside Teyla's quarters, much later**

Ronon dropped Teyla off after their first official date. They paused at her door.

"Are you nervous?" Teyla asked him, leaning against the closed door.

Ronon looked down at their hands clasped together. "Not really. I'm just anxious. I can't wait to get away from there. I just want to be here."

She nodded.

There was a pause. Intense and passionate. His eyes, filled with love, stared into hers. They were searching for something. Permission?

She moved an inch closer to him, closing the gap between them and allowing him to make a move.

He leaned in and kissed her softly. She was like an angel in his arms. He was never going to get used to this, not even if he had a hundred years to be with her.

"I love you," he told her after their (long, happy) embrace.

Her eyes filled with joy. "I love you too," she whispered.

He swept her up for one more kiss. One more long, tender, passionate kiss.

When he opened his eyes she was gone. He smiled. "Tomorrow, my love. Tomorrow." And, for the first time in what felt like forever, he honestly couldn't wait for tomorrow to come.

_To Be Continued_


	18. Chapter 17

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, etc.

Part 18/21

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Chapter 17

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Reserve

Ronon was late to work, not that he cared. Actually, no one around him seemed to notice much at all.

Had life been like this the whole time? Had he really been _that_ blind to everything around him? Now that he knew the truth, evidence was everywhere. Everything was centered around him: no one cared if he messed up.

This wasn't a dream life. This was a demented, twisted form of a fantasy that someone had made up for him. He'd never wanted it all in life, he'd just wanted someone to survive it with. He didn't even really have that anymore. Not here.

"Hey man," Shep greeted Ronon as they walked out toward the field.

Ronon grunted in response. "Hey."

He thought about his "friend" standing next to him, the person that he had a lifetime of memories with. He thought about all of their recent talks, the ones he now knew were just a means to get information to the enemy.

Instead of remorse for what he was going to do later, he felt anxious. It took all his might not to kill the enemy now.

"Hey. You don't look so good." Shep gently hit Ronon's shoulder. "I'm sure that Kell'll let you take the day off if you need to talk. Especially now that the Wraith aren't an immediate threat. Let's go." Shep started to walk off the field.

Oh, how much Ronon wanted to leave with him. He wanted to get him in an alley and end this now. There was only one problem: he wouldn't have an alibi. There wouldn't be an excuse. Everyone would know that Ronon was the only suspect. And in this world, if Shep's "death" wasn't enough, that could prove more than disastrous for him. He'd just gotten his true life, better than he'd ever thought it could be, back. He didn't dare risk losing it now.

"No, I think I'll stay. Maybe later," Ronon said through clenched teeth.

Obviously, that's what Shep had wanted to hear. He controlled his smile, but his eyes showed nothing but joy. "After work, then." He decided.

Ronon nodded and they started their drills.

**Streets of Sateda**

Shep and Ronon walked side-by-side out of the fenced in area. "Work was brutal!" Shep complained as soon as they were out of earshot of the reserve.

Ronon forced a chuckle. "You say that every day."

"And I'm right every day." He put a finger into the air.

Ronon couldn't do this. He couldn't walk next to a "man" he hated. He couldn't wait any longer.

But how would he do it? Something about it seemed so -- _creepy_. He was planning the death of his friend. No. _It_ wasn't a friend. _It_ was an enemy. He _had_ to remember that.

"Is something wrong?" Shep asked after the long pause.

Ronon shook his head. "Just thinking." He couldn't let his mask of normalcy slip. Not now, when he was so close.

"Oh."

Ronon thought about it some more and decided he couldn't use a gun. Too much evidence. He'd have to think of something else.

**Shep's house**

Ronon closed the door behind him.

Sheppard had a curious look in his eyes. "You want something to drink?"

_Does he suspect?_ Ronon didn't know how he possibly could. He'd been trying to act normal all day. Remembering the question, he nodded. "Something hard." He'd need it if he was going to do this.

"Okay. . ." John said with raised eyebrows. Ronon never drank unless there was great reason. Shrugging, he walked into the kitchen and retrieved a drink for both himself and his guest. _If Ronon's gonna drink-- _he took four long draughts of ale and refilled his glass.

He walked into the entry room. "Here ya--"

Ronon wasn't where Shep left him. Where was he?

A flying object appeared in his peripheral vision.

He ducked, but not soon enough. His head slammed against the floor. His eyes slowly shut.

White.

Black.

Nothing.

**Streets**

Ronon charged through the city carrying a man that had no hope.

He's done the right thing. This needed to be done. This _wasn't_ his friend. Now he could be with the _real_ Teyla.

But shouldn't he be worried that he hadn't woken yet? No, no, he had no time to think about that now. It would end when he woke later, he knew it would. It _had _to.

The infirmary doors didn't stand a chance against his brute force. They flew back and crashed into the walls that hinged them in place.

"I need a doctor! Somone! Quick!" Ronon yelled. He didn't have to work hard to sound anxious.

"Bloody hell! What happened?" Beckett said as he magically appeared from the side of the entry room.

Ronon released Shep, setting him on a gurney. He helped wheel the body into the examination area. "I don't know. I walked him home, made a stop, and decided to revisit him," he said quickly. Why was he lying? Would they really kill him if they knew what he'd done? What would _that_ do?

These people were unstable. He was lying to protect himself, so he could protect Atlantis. Atlantis, and more importantly, the real Teyla.

Carson finished his examination by the time that they were in a room of their own. "I'm sorry lad. He's dead."

Ronon bowed his head, hiding his emotion. He felt no sadness. This truly was a sham. "What happened?"

"I don't think we have the technology to know for sure, but I can bet it has something to do with these." He pointed to massive bruises on the side of John's head, now crusted in dried blood.

"Yeah, I saw those. Didn't think that he'd gotten them at work today, but could that have killed him?" Ronon scanned the room for shady witnesses and officers waiting to arrest him. Everyone seemed to be going about their business, unconcerned that there was a dead body -- and a killer -- among them.

"Aye. They look rough, and see here?" The doctor gestured toward the top of the darkest bruise. "That's right on the temporal nerve. It could have very easily been what did it. On top of that, he reeks of alcohol."

Tears filled his eyes, but he wasn't sure why. Was he really going to grieve for this life, and all the heartache and pain it had caused him? "What does that mean?"

Carson paused. "It means he was drunk, son," he said hesitantly, trying to maintain respect for the dead. "He probably fell against something. How did you find him?"

"On the ground."

"Where?" Beckett pushed.

The tall figure shifted stance. "I don't know. I was in shock. I-I was just focused on getting him here." His voice faltered and broke. He wasn't crying, everything but. _I have to keep up the facade. Just a few more hours, if I can just keep it up a few more hours. . ._

He had to. For Teyla.

**Dex home**

Teyla wasn't humming when he walked in the door. Instead, she was walking toward him.

"Ronon, what's wrong?"

He looked at her. He felt no desire to reach out to her, or feel her touch. he felt nothing. This was all false. "It's Shep."

She gasped. "What happened?" She took a step back, fear in her eyes.

"He's dead," Ronon said in a low voice.

Tears filled her eyes as she gasped once more. "H-How?"

He didn't even know it, but tears started to run down his face. He was just numb. He didn't want to talk. He didn't want to think. He just wanted to wake up. He wanted Teyla -- the real one. "It was an accident."

A soft, comforting hand ran up and down his arm. "Where? Are you okay?"

"Look. I don't want to talk about this right now. Can I have some time alone?"

Anger, disappointment, and understanding quickly passed through her façade. "I think it would be better if we talked."

He couldn't take it. This was all too much. All of the lies surrounding him were too heavy to bear. He pushed her hand and false sympathy away and simply turned to walk out the door. He knew she wouldn't follow.

**John's house**

Ronon sat on the floor in the exact place that Shep's body had fallen.

No one was coming. This was where he needed to be.

His guilt was fading. If he hadn't done everything the way he had, all would know he was the criminal. His dream life had turned into a life of pain and running. A life of lies and deceit. A life of hate. The life of a Runner in the guise of all his closest, dearest dreams. A living nightmare, created just for him.

Why hadn't the dreams ended as soon as Shep died? Perhaps the dream he was in needed to be completed. Tomorrow, his dream wouldn't be about Sateda or Teyla. Well -- maybe the _real_ Teyla.

For the first time, a brief smile curled his lips. _That_ was something worth dreaming about.

He stared at the room in front of him; the room that he and the false Shep had sparred and laughed in so many times. It was all a lie. He thought back through his memories of this world. He had so many.

He grieved. Not for Shep's life, but for his. For all of these things that were fake. He mourned the loss of everything that he'd wanted, although it ended a week ago. He sat there, shedding silent tears.

Hours passed as he sat there like that, saying nothing and doing nothing.

For a reason unknown to him, he stood and began to walk. It was pitch black outside, but the farther he walked, the more lights surrounded him, appearing as he wandered. It didn't matter. He knew this city -- this fake world -- like the back of his hand. Besides, would his dream captors really let him get lost?

He didn't know where he was going until he fell into bed next to an already-asleep Teyla.

The hate that he'd felt earlier was suppressed by exhaustion. He involuntarily closed his eyes, waking to his only relief.

_To Be Continued_


	19. Chapter 18

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, etc.

Part 19/21

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Chapter 18

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Atlantis

Ronon lay across Teyla's couch and took a deep sigh of relief. Everything about this place lifted his spirits. Even the smell sent him to a heavenly place. He loved Teyla's smell -- like spicy flowers.

She finally emerged from the bathroom: showered, dressed, and as beautiful as ever. "Are you ready?"

His stomach quietly growled, but he ignored it. "Not yet." He readjusted to make room for her to join him on the couch.

Her smile shown bright and she sat next to him. "So -- did you sleep well?" she asked, a little anxiously.

He leaned in and kissed her, happy that this was all over. Happy that he could just kiss her because he wanted to, because he could love her.

"I wouldn't say _well_, but I did -- accomplish the goal."

**Teyla's quarters**

Teyla understood his hesitance, but a sick attraction brought on curiosity. _How did he kill him? _she wondered. Whatever had happened, it wasn't a fair fight to begin with. But she couldn't press him, it had to have been hard enough for him without her dredging everything up. "You must know that you should feel no guilt," she said firmly.

Ronon turned away from her. There was a long pause. She began to worry. His expression was hard and distant. At last he turned to look at her once more. "I know," he said. His eyes told a different story.

That expression, of such cold, hard darkness, scared her. He didn't want to think or talk about this, but she didn't know what else to say. In her inability to come up with a topic, she just leaned her head against his shoulder. It had been hard for him, and she had to try to understand, even if she really couldn't. She could be there for him. At the moment, she knew deep inside her that's what he needed most.

He kissed the top of her head. "I can't believe it took something so stupid to finally tell you how I felt."

_How long did he feel this way? _She'd loved him for over a year, but she never sensed the same emotions from him. "I do not mind. As long as we are together now."

"We are. And we'll never be apart again." His stomach growled again, and a sheepish grin twitched his beard. "I lied before. I'm starving."

**Mess hall**

"I wouldn't name it. It would just be a trade booth with weapons and stuff. For that matter, I would _never_ even have a store. There's not action," Ronon said, bored.

"Come on! That's the game! You have to come up with a name!" Rodney whined.

Ronon growled, but was calmed by Teyla's hand stroking his under the table. "I do not see the importance of this 'game,'" the petite Athosian said.

Rodney straightened in his seat across from Ronon. "There isn't a point. It's just a stupid question. That's why the game is called 'stupid questions'!" His flying hand gestures knocked an empty cup off the table, but he didn't notice.

"Okay, Rodney. What would you name your store if you had to own one?" Teyla finally asked. She was desperate to keep the peace between the men.

McKay pointed a finger and extended it outward as a newfound joy filled his eyes. "'McKay's Used Books, CDs, DVDs, and More,'" he said triumphantly.

Teyla and Ronon exchanged a glance. "That is a -- very long name," the former admitted.

"And it sounds kinda lame," Ronon added, a teasing smirk glittering in his eyes.

"No, you don't get it! I buy old books from people and sell it at a slightly higher price. Just enough to make a profit. The books will be so cheap that I'll get rich in a month!" Rodney explained. He'd obviously put a lot of thought into it.

There were so many things wrong with this idea in Ronon's mind, but all that he wanted to do was get some alone time with the woman next to him. "Whatever, I'm done." He looked at Teyla.

"As am I. We will see you later." Teyla took her tray with her right hand, the one that wasn't holding Ronon's.

They forgot to let go of each other as the stood, revealing their interlocked fingers to Rodney. Oddly enough, the scientist wasn't surprised. He just nodded at the contact and smiled. Had they really been _that _obvious to everyone but themselves before now?

**Gym**

The new couple didn't fight as two. Instead, they moved as one. They were a perfectly choreographed dance, flying across the floor.

For every move that Teyla made, Ronon responded to it before it was complete. He knew her.

He swiped, she ducked.

She stood, he dodged.

They danced together for what was both an eternity and not long enough.

They stopped simultaneously.

Each had received few blows, but they were breathing heavily.

"Wow. That was -- wow," Ronon said between gasps.

Teyla nodded, wonder in her eyes. "Should we add disabilities?"

He pulled two strips of cloth out of his bag. "You blindfolded, me one-handed?" he suggested with a shrug.

**Gym **

Teyla followed the sound of footsteps as Ronon circled her.

A rod struck the ground. She gripped the two in her hands tighter.

The footsteps, now in front of her, slowed.

They stopped.

_Whoosh._ She blocked the blow and struck his side.

"Ahh!" he cried.

A rod swept her leg up. She fell.

A step to the right.

She rolled to the left and jumped up, striking down.

The rod stopped. She'd made contact.

_Block_

_Hit_

_Dodge _

_Blow_

They were now even, both slick with sweat, their separate ires riled. _Where is he?_

_Running footsteps._

_Sielcne. _There was a pause. Teyla focused, but she had no clue where he was.

She fell.

A hand cradled her head before it hit the ground.

She lay there, catching her breath. She couldn't hear him, but she could feel his heat, so close it felt like her own. She felt his breath on her face. Her lips separated. She still couldn't see him, but the fact she was still blindfolded didn't matter.

His arm shifted to wrap around her waist as she cradled his face in her hands. They lay there, next to each other, quietly and peacefully. The gym was in free hours, but they didn't care if someone were to walk in on them. They moved with each other; knowing every move that the other would make.

Ronon pulled away to catch his breath and took her blindfold off.

She brought his face back down to hers, pulling herself up to him. Her arms reached behind him and untied his arm.

He wrapped his free arm around her waist to join the other and twisted her, gently forcing her to sit next to him. His hand came up to her shoulder, just as carefully pushing her away. They both used the chance to breathe.

The door sounded.

Ronon leaped up and stood over her, between her and whoever was at the door.

_What is he doing? _Teyla felt a little miffed that he didn't offer her a hand up.

John walked in. "I thought I'd find you here." He took a quick step to the side so he could see Teyla, too, his eyebrows hiked high on his forehead. He looked between the them, nothing how they were both trying to catch their breaths. "Ronon! You actually won one!" he rejoiced for his friend. At last, he grinned.

Ronon looked down at Teyla and offered her help up. "Yes. Yes I did." They exchanged playful looks.

The silence was intense. Both were grateful that John was afraid to ask whatever he was really thinking, the question lingering just behind his suspicious eyes.

"Would you like to have the gym?" Teyla asked from the other side of the room. She grabbed their duffles and walked back to Ronon's side, easily handing him his.

John set his bag down. "Oh. I was actually looking for Ronon. Wanna do some sparring?" He looked from Ronon to Teyla. "I guess you must be tired after -- that -- but we could spar if you -- you know -- aren't -- um--" He trailed into silence, an awkward expression on his face.

Ronon looked down to Teyla again. "No, actually. I'm a little tired. I think I'll go shower."

"As will I," she agreed. She swallowed hard at how that must have sounded.

"Oh-kay." Sheppard turned to watch them walk out together. "Oh! And guys--"

_The moment of truth! _They turned in response, a mix of excitement and dread inside them.

"Congratulations." He looked between the two of them, a happy grin on his face.

Teyla blushed. Ronon shot her a quick glance, then took a step forward to divert Sheppard's attention from her embarrassment. "Thanks, Sheppard." _So we were really that obvious?_

The door closed behind them.

Ronon didn't look at Teyla, he just focused on the hall ahead. "You know I love you, right?"

She smiled and nodded. "I know." Her hand caught his and squeezed tightly, and Ronon suddenly felt warm again. This time, it had nothing to do with sparring.

**Balcony **

Eyes on the sunset, Ronon wrapped his arms around Teyla and nestled his face into her hair. They stood on the balcony that they'd visited before. Something about it drew them to it, had made it become their special spot. This had possibly been the best day in both of their lives. Now they were enjoying the end of it together.

"Is this really it? I don't know if the dreams are over. Why didn't they stop as soon as I killed Shep?" His voice was low and pained despite the joy of being with Teyla.

She rested her head on his shoulder, forehead in the crook of his neck and shoulder. Her breath puffed sweetly across his throat. "I did not want to say it, but it might be possible--" She stopped abruptly, wishing she could take it all back.

"What?" Ronon's arms tightened minutely around her waist.

When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet. "You said that the Teyla in Sateda was also trying to push you." She knew what these words meant to him. It was, quite possibly, the most painful thing she'd had to say in her life.

"No." He spoke in a growling tone. Suddenly his warm strength was gone from behind her, and she nearly stumbled. She spun to face him as soon as she regained her equilibrium, frightened and anguished by the truth she saw in his eyes.

He would live a life with these dreams, but he would _not_ kill Teyla. Even though he knew she wasn't the real one.

What had they done?

_To Be Continued_


	20. Chapter 19

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, etc.

Part 20/21

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Chapter 19

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Sateda

It didn't work. Shep was -- dead. And he was still there, in the dream world. He hadn't fallen asleep to _dream_, he'd fallen asleep to his living nightmare. Again.

He knew what he had to do to make it end. But he couldn't. He just _couldn't_. It was too hard, too painful, to even think about it. _Ancestors! Not-- _A lump formed in his throat. He looked at the figure in the bed next to him. _--Teyla._

She hadn't been trying to get information out of him recently. Maybe it was a phase or something. Maybe killing wasn't the way to sever this demented device. But had she been playing him all along? Maybe she'd backed down to win his trust.

No. He couldn't take the risk. He had to do this. It was the only way that he'd be allowed back on the team.

"It's not really her. This isn't real," he muttered, trying to convince himself.

She stirred slightly, moaning.

He looked at her. _Ancestors! I can't do it! Even if she isn't real, I love her. I can live with these dreams now that I know not to give information. _

Teyla sat up, eyes groggy and hair disheveled. "What did you say?" she asked in that special voice she normally reserved for fights.

Ronon stroked her hair, getting it out of her face. "Nothing. I was just thinking," he said in loving tones. He was too desperate, it showed through in his tone. This was going south rapidly, and he couldn't stop it.

She stood, eyes glaring. "What. Did. You. Say?!" she repeated slowly, each word more pronounced.

A chill went up Ronon's spine. _Something isn't right. _He touched his right thigh, subconsciously searching for his gun. It wasn't there. Of course it wasn't there. . . "I-I don't remember." His instincts screamed at him. _Get out get out get out get out get out!!!_

"Did you say 'this isn't real'?!" she yelled, a ferocious expression on her face.

_What's going on? _He scooted to the far edge of the bed, trying to get away from her.

She walked around to his side, looming over him. "John -- you -- you _killed_ him. Why?!" she growled.

_Uh-oh. _Ronon jumped out of bed, ducking under her raised arm, and ran for the door. He didn't know what he was going to do, but he had to get away from her, at least until he could wake up. If he could hide long enough, when he woke he could talk to Teyla again. She'd know what to do. She'd help him.

"Just tell me about Atlantis and I won't kill you. That's all I care about." False-Teyla threatened.

Ronon slowly shook his head as he watched the woman that he once called his wife shift into a ferocious beast. Never before had she seemed so different.

His perception shifted.

"AHHH!" She screamed, running after him.

_Okay, that is _definitely_ not Teyla. The Quitari must really -- wait. What if she kills me here? Would I wake up? Or worse, brain damage. . . _Was the last thing that went through his head before he parried a blow. The impact jarred up his arm to his shoulder, and he winced. She was stronger than his Teyla, too.

She grabbed a plate and threw it at his head. The shatter as it smacked the wall rang through the house. _So she's stronger -- than any human I've ever seen. _He shifted a little, gaze darting around, looking for a way out. _Get out. I just have to get out. I'll talk to Teyla -- the real Teyla--_ A Bantos rod flew toward his neck. It took less than a second for his reflexes to kick in. He grabbed a skillet off the counter and stopped the weapon before it made bodily contact. The rod snapped in half, useless now. He flung the skillet aside.

Ronon knew he needed to stop thinking about what to do once he was out and start focusing on _getting_ out. Everything else would come then.

He turned and ran toward the door.

She cut him off, forcing him to run back into the expanse of the house. She could maybe block his exit one place at a time, but she couldn't guard them all. He'd find a way out if it took him all night.

Neither had a weapon now. She grabbed the first thing in sight and he followed her lead. They were holding his rods now, one per person. Ronon knew he was no match for her inhuman abilities. He knew that he had to abandon the fight if he was going to survive. It was imperative he wake up. That wouldn't happen until his sleep cycle was over.

A horrible thought occurred to him. What if they were able to control his sleep cycles? What if they'd been lulling him into a sense of false security, letting him wake up and go to sleep normally? If they changed it now, he'd lose any hope of ever returning to Atlantis, of being normal again.

Ronon fought not to panic. She might have inhuman abilities, but he had years of fighting experience on his side. But would it be enough?

She knew she had the advantage, and did all in her power to keep him in the house, in her reach. She stood between him and the door, forcing him to fight her.

The rod was replaced by a knife when he could no longer withstand her strength. _Good thing I was too tired to change last night._ He swiped at her, but she avoided it by jumping onto a chair like a feral cat.

The passage was clear now. He ran. The door was in sight.

Something flashed in his peripheral vision.

She was now in front of him, his gun in her hand. A sinister look set her eyes ablaze.

Agony washed over him as he came to his senses and realized what he needed to do. He tightened and loosened his hand around the knife, almost playing with it. Rapid strategizing took place in his mind. He knew what to do.

He lowered to a crouch, angled toward her vulnerable side, and--

Something happened. By the time he'd sprung, she was no longer Teyla. She -- or, rather, it -- had grown to nearly twice the size, larger than even Ronon.

A sneer overtook its mouth.

He had to get out.

Its hands tightened on the gun that Teyla once held.

He's been in more fights than anyone else he'd ever known -- anyone his age, at least -- but this was bad. He didn't know if he could win this.

Something occurred to him. By changing itself, it'd unwillingly played right into his hands. It no longer looked like Teyla, acted like her, even remotely seemed like it could have once played her part in his life. _This_ he could fight with no qualms or handicaps.

The Beast was huge and well-equipped for battle. Its stance proved its experience more than the bulging muscles and rugged armor.

Red. It was the only color Ronon could see. Every object in this room he'd once called home was washed in red. He quickly threw his weapon, but to no avail. The knife point simply bounced off The Beast's armor. Having failed, he dove to his left and ran into the sitting room. Maybe he could break a window. Then he could escape through it. They would both be fine.

It ran in after him. Horrid screeches blared from its chest, through its teeth.

Ronon didn't have enough time to leave. It was right behind him, so close he could feel its hot, fetid breath on his neck. He turned to face it -- to face his death. He refused to give up, and yet couldn't imagine a victory.

Instinct kicked in, just when he needed it most. His leg flew up to kick the gun out of its hand.

It grabbed the Bantos rod that he'd thrown and struck at him with all its might.

He ducked and fell, curling into a ball with his arms over his head. Its shadow covered him in darkness.

Its strength was greater than a Wraith's; its speed, a cheetah. Its skin was dark and fibrous with a hint of a gleam, as if it was secreting a foreign liquid.

It stabbed at him; both hands on the lone rod.

With all his might he blocked, jamming his foot against the hand lowering toward him. The rod flew to the other side of the room, clattering noisily to the ground.

The Beast hissed and quickly swept the room, looking for something else to strike with.

While it was distracted, Ronon planted a hand on either shoulder and pushed. He demanded every ounce of energy in his being to join in the attack, to give himself any hint of an advantage. With the creature now off him, he began searching for his next weapon.

_Shattering. _The noise filled his head, ringing in his ears.

Ronon's head snapped in the direction of the noise.

The Beast wasn't there. The room was empty. The window in front of him was no longer -- well, a window. On the floor lay a few misplaced shards of glass. Placing a hand on either side of the frame, careful not to cut himself on the few shards left clinging to the frame, he cautiously leaned outward.

Ronon barely noticed the remaining fragments of glass that were surrounding The Beast. It was maimed and broken in several places, teeth bared in agony, black eyes glazed and unfocused.

Then, moments after he'd looked upon it, it changed again.

There, in the pile of glass and blood, lay Teyla -- his love.

His heart sank, his mind screamed. _No! It can't be! Why?! _

She looked up at him, raised a hand toward him. "Please! _Please_ help me!" She began to weep, her sobs mirroring the emotions in his soul.

It took every last shred of reality he possessed to not leap from the window and save her.

He looked into the eyes of the one he loved; the one that gave his life meaning; the one he'd wanted to one day die for. And he was now the one to kill her.

His jaw tightened, full of hate. Hate for himself for becoming so entangled in this cruel charade, and hate for it. He _hated_ that foul, putrid, loathsome Beast for ever doing this to him.

Then, as the sun poetically faded behind the horizon, he shook his head once, slowly.

"_Please!_" She -- it -- wailed, begging for its life.

He couldn't take it. He _had_ to get away. Of course he understood that it wasn't really her, but that didn't make it any easier. He turned and ran as fast as he could.

He didn't know what would happen. Didn't know if running would keep him in this world for the rest of his life. He didn't care. All he cared about was getting _out_ of there.

Ronon's feet pounded against the ground with the hatred he felt. He charged into the darkness, away from the setting sun.

After a moment, when he was still in brief sight of the house, he felt a strange sensation. It was as if something was washing over him and, at the same time, pulling him away. He had no control, it was too strong.

In agony, he let the mysterious force remove him from existence, welcoming the sudden abyss of loneliness.

**Atlantis**

For the last time, Ronon returned from the dream world that had become his nightmare. He jolted out of bed. It was the middle of the night, and his face was sticky with tears. _What did I do?_

He had to get out of there, _now_. He could feel his body convulsing as he screamed the pain he felt, but he could no longer hear himself.

Without thought or reason, he stumbled down the halls. He no longer remembered the people that lived here or the sleepers he'd wake. He just followed the need in his heart. He subconsciously hit a button. What it controled, where it would take him, he didn't know. He was just desperate to get _away._

Agony ripped through him again, mind, body, and spirit. He'd just murdered all he'd ever held dear. He'd just killed his only shot at happiness. He'd _loved_ her.

The door he hadn't realized was blocking his path opened. Ronon couldn't see through his tears, but he heard a familiar sound. He felt her guiding him through the door. The second that he was inside, his body crumpled. His sobs faded to weak tears as reality sank in once more.

Two arms wrapped around him. They cradled his head. They held him tightly, letting him cry.

Ronon suddenly found himself repeating three lines over and over again in his head. _This is real. This is right. This is the real Teyla. _He added one more to his mantra. _This is where I belong._

_To Be Continued_


	21. Epilogue

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, etc.

Part 21/21

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Epilogue

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Atlantis

Ronon woke once more, this time at a halfway normal hour. The only thing he could focus his mind on was Teyla. The only thing that made sense to him was to spring out of bed and run to her room. But he knew better. There were things he had to do first.

He started by sauntering up to his mirror, something that he rarely used. He looked good enough. No need for a shower.

"Dr. Weir?" he hailed on his radio.

There was a pause and slight static over the radio before: "Yes, Ronon?"

"Uh -- I think it's time for a meeting," he said awkwardly. She was the only person in the city that he still had a hard time talking to.

She exhaled a chuckled. "That's good to hear. We'll meet in a half-hour. Is that enough time?"

"Sounds great to me." He looked around his room. Talking on the radio was so awkward at times. He much preferred the direct, face-to-face approach so he could read facial expressions and body language.

The link disconnected and Ronon ran to his door.

He knew who he was going to spend his free time with.

**Briefing room**

"At first, it didn't work. Just killing him wasn't enough," Ronon explained to the regular audience. He found it strange to see everyone sitting there. Rodney, for instance. Why should _he _care about this? Ronon was still trying to figure that one out.

The room was silent, reminding him of the funerals he would go to on Sateda in his youth. No one ever knew what to say, so they said nothing.

When no one else spoke, he continued. "So I -- uh -- after Sateda Teyla -- died. . ." he trailed to a stop. Although he knew it was stupid, he still didn't like to think of those images, those memories. He looked at Teyla, who was sitting beside him. Seeing her happy and healthy helped. It always helped.

"We're glad you're back." John interrupted so Ronon didn't have to continue. "Can we lose the losers now?" he asked Elizabeth, seated to his left.

She nodded with a raised eyebrow, then looked to Ronon. "I see no problem in you rejoining the team, as long as you pass all of the physical and mental exams." She turned back to John. "And those men are the best of their class."

John tensed up. She seemed offended. He didn't like it when she was mad at him. "I just meant--"

"Wait. You went on _missions_ without me, too?" Ronon leaned forward. He held a look that made everyone in the room worry for their safety. Everyone except Teyla, that is. She sat with a serene smile on her face, relief flaring in her eyes.

Elizabeth took on her diplomatic expression before answering. "We had to, Ronon. With the Wraith a constant threat, we need men out there. You guys just happen to be the best." She threw a playful look in Sheppard's direction. "I'm sorry, but we felt the need to keep the information from you. We didn't want the Quitari to find out."

"Yeah, okay. What about them?" Ronon asked. "Can I request our next mission?" The want for revenge was running through his veins as he imagined all of the ways that he could torture whoever caused his torture.

"That's still a topic to be discussed, but I promise something will be done," Elizabeth assured. There was the slightest shade of an amusemed smirk on her lips.

Ronon leaned back in his chair. "Yeah, well, it better hurt." It was really nice to have things back to normal again.

**Mess Hall**

Something about food attracted fellowship. In Atlantis, it was rare to eat alone and common to use a meal to enjoy time with those you love.

AR-1 and Elizabeth all sat around a too-small table, enjoying lunch together. Ronon and Teyla were across from John and Elizabeth with Rodney on the end. They started out eating and joking, but the conversation was getting more serious the longer it was going on.

John felt Elizabeth's leg tap his as she crossed her legs. "So, when's out next mission? It's been over a week now."

"I'm gong to return to P3J-736 tomorrow. It's the scientific expedition that I've been visiting the past week. They're finally set up and ready for me to stay there a few days," Rodney jumped in with. There was fake annoyance in his tone, though it was apparent that he was excited. He took another bite of food, not realizing how it forced him to talk with it in his mouth.

"What will we ever do without you?" John replied sarcastically, turning his eyes away.

Elizabeth set her fork down and turned to face him. "You won't, actually. It's an old Wraith lab. You'll be the military escort." A childish smile covered her face. She knew how much he hated being babysitter.

"Great. Sounds like fun." Ronon complained. Something nudged his right hand under the table. He took it and held it softly in his. "Um -- there's something else that we need to talk about."

John looked at Elizabeth and nodded. She spoke for them. "If you're talking about the two of you, I already know. I don't mind personal relationships, but there are a few conditions."

John wondered how she would respond if he and Elizabeth hadn't been dating, or whatever they were doing. Was she giving them extra grace because she knew that she might need some soon? Did she even know that he liked her that much?

"You _knew_?" Ronon said in disbelief. John could tell that the only reason that he didn't ask "how" was that he didn't want to know that John knew how to interpret correctly what he'd seen in the Gym and shared it with her.

Rodney jumped into the conversation. "I knew too," he said proudly, pointer finger in the air.

"_You _knew?" John said with slight disgust. "How did _you _know?"

"I'm just really really smart." He lowered his finger and donned an even more proud expression.

"Pul-ease. So -- you're just now coming out about it? You just don't want to--" John said before he was interrupted.

Ronon put his left hand on top of his and Teyla's, hidden under the table. "I love her." He and Teyla looked at each other with love in their eyes and smiles on their faces.

"Wow", John whispered. That was incredibly random. This wasn't like them at all. They must both have it bad.

He turned to Elizabeth. They exchanged a look very similar to the one across the table. Maybe it wasn't so uncommon after all.

"Umm -- I think I'm going start packing." Rodney pointed toward the exit.

Four heads snapped out of their own worlds, all blushing.

"Us, too." Ronon stacked his and Teyla's trays and carried them to the trash can, happy that he no longer had to let go of her hand when they stood from the shelter of the table. No more secrets, no more lies. It was a relief to get past that, especially after what happened with his -- nightmares.

"That was -- different." John said to Elizabeth when they were alone.

She nodded. "I just pray that it doesn't affect the team."

He shrugged. "It won't. They're both warriors, they were born for stuff like this. If you ask me, I wonder what's taken them so long," he admitted.

"You saw it, too?"

"Yeah. Some people are just meant for each other. No matter how many rules or fears stand between them, they'll never make it as just friends. They're meant for something more." He wasn't just talking about Ronon and Teyla.

Elizabeth blushed. She'd gotten the hidden message. "John, that's beautiful."

He shrugged. "I try."

**John's quarters**

John was standing on his balcony when he heard the door chime. _Who--_ "Come in!" _Who could that be?_ He wondered with obvious hope.

The mystery person joined him at the rail and kissed him on the cheek. "Just thought I would check in and see how you were."

_Elizabeth! _His wish came true. "I'm fine, thank you. I missed you a little. How long has it been?"

She turned to face the ocean, but he couldn't take his eyes off her.

"Coming up on three hours," she said, amused. She didn't remove her gaze from the waves, but he could see her smile.

He smiled in response. _More like three _years. "Well, that's just too long," he said matter-of-factly.

Elizabeth chuckled and turned to face him. She didn't seem bothered when she noticed that she'd been stared at since she arrived. _Did she know all along?_

No one knew that they were dating. Not officially. They both knew that there had to be rumors and suspicions, but they didn't care. They weren't doing anything wrong. The kiss on the cheek was the most intimate embrace that they'd shared yet. Well -- besides that one kiss a couple years ago, but that wasn't technically them.

Her face glowed, almost reflecting the red sunset. "I agree," she said seriously.

They'd known each other for four years and he'd loved her for three, but could he _tell _her? Now more than ever, he longed to reach out to her. To feel her soft skin, her warm embrace. He wanted just to -- to kiss her. What was so wrong in that? Just a kiss. But what if -- what if she didn't feel the same? He didn't know if he could bear the consequences.

"Look John. . ." She stopped, overwhelming emotion in her eyes.

_What is she thinking?_ "No, Elizabeth. I think -- no I know." He stopped as her expression changed.

The mixed emotions in her eyes dissolved into two -- love and fear.

**Teyla's quarters**

Ronon walked into his second home without knocking. They'd had an understanding that Teyla would radio him if she needed alone time and he would know not to enter.

There was less alone time every day.

He searched her quarters to find her standing on the balcony. "Is it not beautiful?" she asked as soon as he was in the doorway behind her.

He walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. She rested her head against his shoulder with a content sigh, making him smile. "It's gorgeous, but still not as lovely as you," he whispered into her ear.

She cupped a hand around his face and he moved his arms to wrap around her waist. "I love you," she told him freely.

He kissed her softly. "I love you, too."

She put her hands on his shoulders and pulled him back down to her level. Her lips made immediate contact as she kissed him passionately, holding nothing back.

_Just like Sateda Teyla, but this is real. And a thousand times better._

**John's balcony**

_What is he thinking? Is he breaking up with me? Were we ever 'going out'? _

Elizabeth's mind didn't know what to say so her mouth took over. "What?" It wasn't the most eloquent of quesitons, but the simple word accomplished its task.

"Elizabeth, I love you," he told her quickly, impulsively.

She couldn't handle all of the emotions rushing toward her. She couldn't look at him. When she did, all she could think of was wrapping her arms around him, but she needed to think, if just for a moment. She leaned over the rail, looking directly down at the ocean. She could see the outermost edge of the railing on the balcony below and faintly hear voices. She could feel the salty breeze blowing her face. She could hear the waves against the city. But she didn't know any of it. All of these facts were just added to the other multitude of information rushing into her mind.

"Are you okay?" he asked, leaning over the railing to join her.

She turned toward him, their noses nearly touching now. Tears filled her eyes and she nodded. _I love you too!_ Why couldn't she say it out loud? She was still stunned.

They both straightened simultaneously. They were now standing, still close enough to hear each other breathing.

**Teyla's balcony**

Ronon pushed her away and placed her back into his arms, back against his chest, forcing her to watch the sunset with him. _What is he doing?_

"It's nothing like Sateda. I think I like it more here." He squeezed her tighter, face nuzzling into her neck.

She tilted her head back to meet his gaze. "Why is that?" Her heart fluttered.

He kissed her forehead. "Because you're here." The simple words had such something so much deeper in them, it made her stomach tighten with emotion.

She removed one of his hands from her stomach and brought it up to her lips. She gently placed a caressing kiss on it as she heard a satisfied grunt from Ronon. "I would never want to be anywhere else, either," she whispered.

**John's balcony**

_I don't care! I can't wait!_ He threw himself at her, crushing her lips with his.

She put her arms around his neck and moved with him.

John ran his fingers through her hair. _Three years was worth the wait!_

They stood there, moving with each other, having a silent conversation; expressing all of the love and emotions that they'd shunned for all these years.

She pulled away and rested her forehead against his. "I love you too"

**Teyla's balcony**

In one movement, Ronon shifted his and Teyla's weight.

His right knee was her seat and his left was against the floor as support.

Now that they were facing each other again, Teyla brought her hand back to his face and he leaned in. She forgot about everything around them, about her inhibitions, and put all of her feelings and emotions into her movements.

His right arm pulled her in, closer to him. This was the most passionate, powerful, wonderful kiss that they'd experienced. Better than anything that he and Satedan Teyla had ever experienced.

Ronon pulled away and rested his forehead against Teyla's, gaze locked intensely on hers. "Will you marry me?"

**_-The End-_**


End file.
